Rain of Roses
by Saravien
Summary: *complete* A centuries old tragedy replays as one young mercenary learns the price of love; for the love of the land, the love of humanity, and the love of one woman: Quistis Trepe.
1. Clouds Gather

Disclaimer: I own the story but not the characters; they belong to Squaresoft.

**A Rain of Roses**

_"I've been calling…."_

_The figure didn't turn around. She paused, cocking her head to one side. _

_"You….are him, aren't you."_

_There was no answer, but the hooded shape turned slightly, allowing a man's profile to stand out against the red sky. _

_"Who are you?"_

_"I'm lost." His voice was music, a flow of liquid syllables that rained down on her like a shower of gold. "I'm afraid….I've been forced to… I must protect them…"_

_"Protect who?" she asked, taking a step towards him. She could plainly feel his agony, the sorrow that dampened that beautiful voice. _

_"Without me…they'll never make it. They need me."_

_"Who?Who needs you?"_

_"Goodbye…Until we meet again." _

_"No!" She cried out as he began to melt away. The wind kicked up, throwing her back. Sounds filled the air, sounds of metal clashing on metal, of men screaming, yelling, the thudding of bodies hitting each other, hitting the ground. Phantoms danced all around her, flitting through her vision just enough that she had to strain her eyes to see them. _

_The air filled with a red rain, fluttering and whirling around her. Shuddering, she reached out to catch a droplet. Expecting water, or maybe even blood, she was surprised as the silky smoothness of a rose petal brushed her skin. The wind calmed, and soon the rose petals were falling quietly all around her. _

_She was standing in a garden, next to an archway. Vines heavily laden with soft red roses hung down from the stone. Low bushes full of blooms hugged the ground everywhere that she looked. There was a soft breeze again, tickling her skin and pushing her hair away from her face. _

_"You are the rose." His voice…but where was it coming from. "Quiet. Elegant. Composed. Beautiful…."_

_The sky blackened, angry clouds gathered, and the wind, gentle before, now howled as if in anger. On the wind his voice drifted back to her._

_"When the rain comes, sweet rose…Will you be strong enough?"_

The sun sat low in the sky, a fiery orb of fading warmth painting the horizon with vivid streaks of red, orange, and gold. It was late summer, and the evening air had taken on a slight chill, a taste of the impending winter.  Darren Thebes hurried along, knowing he was already late. The train from Balamb had long since departed, on its way back across the sea. He passed by the gate, waiving at Sherry, the window girl. 

"Good day, Mr. Thebes!" Sherry called. "Picking up?"

He nodded and continued out to the passenger platform. He paused a moment to 

wipe his brow with his handkerchief, looking around. The place was practically deserted, with just a few attendants, a janitor, and a lone figure, the sight of which drew a sigh of relief from the heavy set man. 

She stood at the edge of the platform, outwardly the picture of calm and composure. Her uniform was perfectly pressed, not a button undone or a hint of wear in the gold trim. Blonde hair was pulled up into a clip of the back of her head, with not a single strand out of place. No sign of weariness shone in her serene face as she turned to greet him, a slight smile curving her lips. 

"Good afternoon, sir. Darren Thebes, I believe?"

"Er, yes, I mean, good day, miss…" Darren fumbled with a slip of paper in his pocket, unfolding it for the thousandth time. "Trepe. Miss Quistis….Trepe?" He had read the instructions over and over, but here, faced with a real SeeD, a composed and imposing woman, he found himself fumbling.

"Yes, sir." She bent down to pick up her bag. 

"Oh, no, please, let me get that," he exclaimed. She watched, amused, as he heaved her bag up and over his shoulder. "The car is waiting. We must hurry, and get in before it gets too dark." 

Silently Quistis followed Darren to the car, allowing him to open the door for her before he heaved himself in to the tiny vehicle. As they pulled away from the station, she looked out the window to take in more her surroundings.

Within a few minutes they had left the station behind, venturing down the bumpy road into rolling countryside. Many of the crops had already been harvested, and haystacks dotted the fields. The copses of trees that were scattered about left splashes of red and yellow among the gold and brown fields, and occasionally a pumpkin patch would provide a brilliant patch of orange. The further they traveled, the simpler the homes became, until the car they rumbled along in became the only sign of the technology of the wider world. Here in the country, life had remained simple. 

The land became rockier as they neared the fringes of the mountains, the fields broken up by large lots of forested country. It was getting dark, and soon Quistis could see little behind what was illuminated by the car's headlights. Tiny dots of light appeared in the distance, and as they drew closer, she identified them as candlelight gleaming through windows, welcoming the travelers in. 

"Welcome to Starvale, Miss Trepe," Darren said solemnly as they rode down the tiny village's main street. Homey, two story buildings with both thatched and shingled roofs lined the street, cheerful and welcoming in their simplicity. Through the windows she caught glimpses of families gathering for the evening meal, store owners doing their final sweep of their shops. The tavern was heard before they reached it, the sounds of singing and talking spilling out into the darkness each time a new patron opened the door. They soon passed all of these things, and continued on down the road.

"Excuse me, Mr. Thebes," Quistis frowned slightly, "but where are we going? I was under the impression I had been called to Starvale, and would room there."

"Oh, you have, ma'am. But Starvale's First Citizen has insisted you room with him."

"And he would be…?"

"Lord Gefrey Vanderstyll, of course. His manor is just outside of Starvale." Darren chuckled. "The Vanderstylls have always been rather fond of their privacy. Besides, wouldn't that look rather silly plopped down among the homes in town?"

He said this as they rounded a bend and the trees broke away, bringing a stately manor home into view. Three stories of carefully fitted gray stone were topped by tin roofs painted a dark blue. Evergreen trees lined the long drive up to the front gate, torches with glowing balls of soft yellow light set between each one. 

As they reached the circle in front of the house, Quistis saw two people step out onto the walkway from the entrance. A young man in his mid-twenties waved a leather-gloved hand at them while his tiny, pretty wife smiled.  He was dressed for riding, in rich brown leather breeches, slim jacket, white puffed shirt and a smart black cap. She wore a lovely emerald green gown that hugged her tiny waist and hips just right before cascading to the ground. She had thrown a lacy white shawl about her shoulders to fend off the autumn chill.

"That be Lord Gefrey, and his wife Elana," Darrel said to her as the car came to a stop. 

An elderly gentleman dressed in plain black trousers, black jacket and gray shirt appeared from nowhere and opened the door for her, taking her hand as she stepped out. The battle hardened SeeD hardly needed aid getting out of the small car, but it wasn't often she was treated….well, treated like a lady. 

"Greetings, Ms. Trepe!" Gefrey said warmly, clasping her hand in a firm shake. "I am so very pleased that you shall be staying here with us for the duration of your visit!"

"Yes, Ms. Trepe, do come in," Elana smiled at her. "It's getting a bit chilly out here, and there's a warm supper waiting inside. You must be tired from all that traveling!"

Quistis chuckled wryly. "I've become accustomed to travel lately."

"Yes," Gefrey took her elbow, leading her towards the door. "But how often did you have to subject yourself to Darrel's driving!"

Darrel huffed, though he knew Gefrey's playful teasing for what it was. "Very well, then, m'Lord, next time, _you may have the pleasure."_

"Now, Darrel, you know I don't drive those dratted contraptions. A horse is the only way for me. Now, Ms. Trepe, Benton will take your things to your room, and you shall join us for dinner."

Dinner was a pleasant affair, with surprisingly hearty dishes of venison and stewed vegetables, followed up with fresh fruit and cream. The men had retired to the study, while the young SeeD begged Lady Elana's forgiveness and went on to her room. 

Quistis pulled her bag up and set it on the bed, taking a look around at the room Lord Gefrey had provided her. The walls were painted a soft blue, the curtains a heavy dark blue velvet. The hardwood floor was covered with a rich woven rug with silvery swirls and designs embroidered into it in much the same style as the heavy tapestries hanging on the walls. A small fire burned cheerily in the stone fireplace, and candles were lit along the mantle. The four poster bed was a dark cherry, with lions heads carved into the headboard and made up with heavy blue comforters. There was a cherry wood armoire for her to put her things in, and a small door beside the bed she assumed led to the bathroom. 

"Lion's heads…" she whispered as she began to pull her things out of her bag, laying Save the Queen on the bed before walking to the armoire with her clothing. She smiled for a moment as the grinning feline faces brought her thoughts to her stormy-eyed commander. The smile faded, however, as she remembered their last conversation.

_"I'm going away on a mission."_

_He didn't turn around to look at her, merely nodded his head to acknowledge that he had heard her._

_"Headmaster Cid believes it will be a lengthy one…I could be gone for months...a year, even."_

_"Well, it is your job," he replied, a touch of annoyance in his voice. What did she want from him, anyway? _

_"Yes…that it is…and you know, as well as I do, that every job brings the possibility of never returning. I…Dammit, Squall!" she growled suddenly, fiercly. She had just about had it with the stone cold rock of a man standing before her. _

_He jumped, startled by the normally cool, composed Quistis' sudden outburst, and turned to look at her._

_"What is your problem, Quisty?"_

_She noticed his use of her nickname, but she was so mad, she didn't care. "What is the problem? The problem is that after all that we have been through, all the blood and sweat and tears we have shed side by side, you still treat me like a stranger! Well, I've had it! You can smile for Rinoa, whom you've known for what, a few months? But for us, for your friends, the people you grew up with, who wanted nothing more than to see you happy, for Selphie and Zell and __Irvine__ and me, what could you give? Nothing! And that's what you'll end up with in the end, Squall Leonhart. Nothing." With that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. _

_            Quistis sighed as she turned back the covers. As she stripped and got into her nightclothes, she glanced at the telephone sitting on the nightstand and debated for a moment. __Should I call him? Apologize? _

            As soon as the thought entered her mind, though, she scowled, hardening her heart. _Hell, no, I will not __apologize. Everything I said was the truth. Besides, he probably doesn't care anyway…_

            She pulled the covers up to her chin and drifted slowly into a troubled sleep…

            _It began with a single petal drifting down, swirling and dancing in hidden air currents. She held out her hand to catch the silky crimson petal, like a child catches snowflakes. Then the air was full of them, a flurry of roses falling like rain all around her. She closed her eyes and smiled as they fell softly against her face. She stretched her arms out and sighed with quiet pleasure. She felt like she was flying…_

_            Then her hand brushed against something sharp, prickly. Turning, she opened her eyes and saw a rose bush. Beyond that rose bush was a vine, climbing up a crumbling stone archway, heavily laden with red and white roses. She began to look around, and found herself standing in a vast garden, bushes bursting with crimson color everywhere. _

_            She spent what felt like an eon, walking softly amidst the roses. She felt peaceful, a quiet interlude her soul had rarely known. She began to hum, a lullaby she couldn't recall the origins of. Perhaps her mother, her real mother, had sung it to her once… or maybe Matron, dear sweet Edea, who had cared for them as if they were all her own. _

_            A dark shadow fell across the garden, as if the sun had been blotted out. The wind, a moment before warm and comforting, become cold and biting. She heard a low growl from the shadows to her left, and barely had time to comprehend the danger before a feline shape leaped out, claws outstretched. _


	2. The Sky Darkens

Squall paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes, grabbing a water bottle off the bench and squirting it in his face before blotting it dry with a small white towel. After his seemingly endless pile of paperwork, part of his duties as commander, he'd come to the gym to work off the tension. He stood barefoot on the mat next to the punching bag, clad only in a pair of old gray sweatpants. Sweat had given his bare muscular chest a glossy sheen, complementing the gleam in his stormy gray eyes. His dark brown hair had grown just long enough for him to tie it back, although a few strands had escaped during his tirade against the punching bag. 

            _Nothing…_

            Squall scowled as a picture of Quistis came unbidden into his mind. He could almost hear her shouting at him, before he'd watched helplessly as she stormed out of his dorm room, slamming the door behind her. 

            _That's what you'll end up with in the end, Squall Leonhart…_

_            He barely noticed the growl escaping from his lips as he launched another flurry of attacks against the defenseless punching bag. He pounded away unmercifully, trying to chase away his thoughts, not wanting to travel down the path his treacherous mind wanted to take him. _

            _What if she's right?_

_            He stopped, starting to realize that this time, his mind wasn't going to let him run away. _

            He had opened up to them, to all of them….hadn't he? So what if he'd smiled at Rinoa. She had been the one, the voice that had brought him out of the endless wasteland of time. Right? Or was it only because he had let her? 

            No matter what he said to Rinoa, whatever she wanted to believe, he had to be honest, at least to himself. Yes, he'd thought of Rinoa…of her raven hair, her beautiful pouting face, of the SeeD graduation ball when they'd first met. But he had also thought of standing at the front gate of Galbadia Garden, seeing Irvine get up from the grass and saunter over to them. He'd thought of the field exam, the image of silly, wonderful Selphie climbing up over the hill, so very anxious to complete her orders that she leapt right over the cliff after Seifer. He thought of Zell sitting in the cafeteria, stuffing his face so full of hot dogs people were taking bets on how long it would be before he exploded. He had thought of all the times sitting in the back row, watching a young, vibrant blonde instructor lecture them on the best strategy for thunder magic, which had led to a bossy little Quisty in an orphanage by the sea. 

            Mostly, though, he had thought of Matron…the sorceress Edea, who had been his mother, in spirit if not in blood. He thought of the terrible battle against her, and how thankful he was that at that time, he did not remember who she was. 

_Remember…_

This led him to his feelings after they had thought Seifer was dead, and how fiercely he did not want people to talk about him like that after he was gone. Memories…so long as they remembered, he'd never be gone. The desire to remember…that had brought him to the flower field, beside the orphanage that had been his home. He didn't want to be forgotten. 

            Did the others think that because it seemed Rinoa had brought him back to them, that somehow she was more important to him, more important than his dearest friends who had lived with him at the orphanage? There should have been a special bond between them, the bond of people who have only each other, with no family anywhere else in the world. Perhaps they felt betrayed…

            No, that was nonsense. Everybody liked Rinoa, everyone had tried so hard to bring her and Squall together. Right?

            He remembered a few weeks ago, seeing Zell and Irvine strolling to the front gate, waving goodbye to him. They were headed down to Balamb for a few drinks and whatever else the rowdy pair could get themselves into. They hadn't even asked him if he wanted to go. 

            _They were probably going to look for women, and figured since I'm taken, I wouldn't want to go. _

_            Yeah, right, Leonhart. Is that what you really think?_

            He was so engrossed in this troublesome line of thinking that he didn't notice the young SeeD cadet enter the gym. She stood for a few minutes, hoping to catch Squall's attention. Finally, after watching him stare off into space for what felt like an eternity to her, she cleared her throat. 

            "Um…Commander?"

            The small voice startled Squall. He jumped up and grabbed for a gunblade that wasn't there, whirling around on the unfortunate cadet. He calmed immediately when he saw her, but was disturbed by the fear he saw in her eyes.

            "H-headmaster Cid wants to see you, um, sir."

            "When."

            She took a small step backwards. "Whenever you can, sir." She turned on her heel and practically ran from the practice gym. 

            After grabbing a quick shower to wash the sweat and tension off, Squall regarded his uniform briefly before pulling on a pair of black pants and a plain blue shirt and headed on up to the Garden's third floor.  When he arrived at Cid's office, he saw Zell and Selphie waiting there already. His hopes rose at the sight of these two. Could he dare hope he was being sent on a mission?

            Since they'd defeated Ultimecia, he'd been assigning the teams rather than being a part of them. He was learning day after excruciating day that he preferred the times when he wasn't in command. He missed the thrill of real combat, dangerous and unpredictable combat. He missed solving the puzzles that a mission would inevitably present. Truly, he had envied Quistis when she'd come to tell him she was going away.

            Shaking those thoughts away, he faced Headmaster Cid. The older man was dressed as Squall often imagined a grandfather  might, in a red sweater over a white dress shirt, gray tweed trousers and those funny little black loafers. In a detached sort of manner, Squall noticed that Cid seemed to have a few more worry lines around his eyes, creasing his kind, warm face. Not really the image of a man who regularly sent SeeDs into dangerous missions, a man who regularly sent young men and women to die. 

            "Squall Leonhart," Cid said quietly, and Squall wondered if the headmaster was speaking to him or to the air. Cid shook his head slightly, seeming as if he'd reached a decision. "I am assigning yourself, Selphie Tilmitt, and Zell Dincht on a mission. A small village on the northern border of Esthar was slaughtered last night, to the last man, woman, and child."

            Squall heard Selphie give a little gasp behind him as he nodded grimly.

            "The Esthar government wants answers. They want justice."

            "They want revenge," Zell put in.

            "You are being sent to investigate, uncover and bring in the perpetrators. More information will be available to you when you arrive in Esthar. Any questions?"

            "Sir." Squall hoped that his eagerness to be in the field again would not be confused with irreverence for the tragedy. "May I ask, why isn't the government investigating themselves?"

            "Oh, they are. And it is because of what they have discovered that you are being sent." Cid held up a hand to stop what he knew would be Squall's next question. "No, I can't elaborate. Any other questions?"

            They were quiet. "Good. You leave tomorrow evening. Get some rest."

            _She could feel the hot breath of the beast behind her as she stumbled over a tangle of vines. Barely regaining her footing before she kissed the dirt, she ran on. Even in this dire peril, she kept her wits about her  and looked ahead, attempting to discern an escape route. The rose vines hung down from everywhere, their thorny branches grabbing at her hear and tearing at her clothes. Desperately she wished for a gunblade, a knife, anything that would help her through the jungle of roses. In a detached part of her mind, she wondered what they were hanging from._

_            Ahead she saw two routes she could take. The dark circle of a cave mouth was barely visible through a tangle of rose bushes, beside which she saw a path running up the side of the hill. _

_            "Which one?"_

_            She dared a look behind her, and saw the dark shape pause, gathering its strength as if to make a leap to close the distance to her._

_            "Choose, Rose!" His voice sounded anxious…frightened? "Will you run forever? Will you run to the sky? Or will you plunge into the darkness?"_

_            "No!" she cried, and immediately began to climb the rocky path up the hill. She heard rocks falling behind her, but knew she did not have a moment to spare to view her hunter's progress. She found better footing twenty feet up, and began to run along the ledge. _

_            Suddenly the land fell away from her. She felt strong arms circle around her, briefly, and thought she heard a whisper in her ear. _

_            "Beware…"_

_            And then she was falling…_

            Bright, cheery sunlight streamed through the window, brightening the study with brilliant warmth. Shelves of books lined the walls of the small study, and the room smelled of ink and paper. It was early morning, just after breakfast, and Lord Gefrey sat at his desk, going over harvest reports from his various tenants. Harvest was a busy time for Gefrey, with his livelihood centered around the farming families who worked his lands. As he paused for a moment to consider the squirrel running across the branches of the large oak tree that sat just outside the study window, there was a soft knock at his door. 

            "Come in," he called, and was not surprised when the young blonde woman stepped into the room. "Good morning, Ms. Trepe. What can I do for you?"

            Quistis nodded politely. "Good Mornng, sir." She was quiet a moment, trying to decide how to begin. "If you don't mind, I will come straight to the point.  I'd like to get started immediately on completing my mission. I'm afraid, however, I wasn't given much information before I left, but I _was told you would fill me in."_

            Gefrey nodded. "Yes, yes…" He got up out of his seat and walked to the fireplace, looking up at the portrait of an elderly gentleman that hung above the mantle. Quistis shifted her weight, preparing for a lengthy explanation. "When Starvale was founded, oh, before my great grandfather was born, it was a mining town. In these hills there are veins of silver, supposedly so pure the silversmiths could fashion objects right from the cave walls. The miners back then used a special rod, called the Finder's Way, to guide them through the tunnels. 

            "One day something went wrong, something so terrible the survivors refused to speak about it. There was a cave in, and the rod was lost. The remaining miners would not go back in to retrieve it. The mines were sealed up, and the people of Starvale turned to the land for their future, and have prospered from it. 

            "I have brought you here to find and return to me the Finder's Way, which was a personal possession of the first Lord Vanderstyll. I have gathered a few locals who will help you to this end."

            "What is so special about the rod?"

            "My grandfather, Lord Devrin Vanderstyll, spent much time researching the rod." Gefrey walked over to the desk and made a complicated gesture on the smooth, highly polished cherry surface. Quistis watched as a previously hidden drawer slid out from the side. Reverantly he removed a stack of yellowed parchment and a small, leather bound book. "These are his notes, which I now entrust with you. Much of it is written in some kind of code no one I've brought it to has ever been able to decipher." He laid the journal on the desk and handed her the papers. "What is it?" he asked, noticing a puzzled frown creasing her lovely face.

            "It's just…well, sir, this looks like a job for a digging team, not a SeeD. I'm not sure where my skills are suited for this mission."

            "Ah, but they are." Gefrey ran his fingers through his hair and looked her squarely in the eyes. "You may hear rumors around town that the mines are haunted. My grandfather's notes and my own experience at the caves years ago lead me to believe that the rumors may not only be true, but may only scratch the surface. Whatever happened down there was bad enough to terrify the wits out of several grown men, experienced miners. I needed someone prepared to face possibly dire circumstances while down there. SeeD seemed to be the logical conclusion." He smiled at her and winked. "And I have heard in certain circles that Quistis Trepe and her friends are the best in all the Gardens."

            Quistis smiled wryly. _Possibly dire circumstances…well, he is right…it can't be worse than Time Compression…_

_            Gefrey looked past her as Benton entered the study.      _

            "Excuse me for interrupting, sir, but Mr. Leete is here to see you."

            "Yes, of course," Gefrey waived his hand. "I shall leave you to your reading, Ms. Trepe. Your team is prepared to go down with you as early as tomorrow morning, if you are ready by then. You may use my study, if you like."

            Quistis nodded and looked down at the crumbling parchments in her hands. The handwriting, in faded black ink, was small and orderly. As she shuffled through them, she noticed a dark splotch between the pages. She pulled them apart, hoping there weren't any ink blots or damage on the documents. 

            Gefrey had started to turn and walk out the door, but stopped and regarded her curiously. "Well, would you look at that? How did that get in there?"

            They watched as a rose petal slipped from between the papers and drifted slowly to the floor. 

Author's notes: I'm not sure if I like how this chapter turned out….please let me know. Was it too abrupt? Thanks, and thank you to those few for the kind reviews. Like any author, they are what I write for! J


	3. Meeting

Quistis stretched her arms out and yawned, pushing away from the desk. Her eyes were going cross from hours of staring at the tiny, precise handwriting, and her head was swimming with a thousand different thoughts. Her eyes fell on the rose petal laying on the desk and frowned. 

            _This is nonsense. It's a coincidence, nothing more. Dreams are just dreams. _

            Deciding not to give it another thought, she swept the petal aside. She'd worked straight through lunch, and Benton had brought a plate in to her for an early supper. Lord Gefrey had appeared a few times, dropping off reports and checking on her progress.

            Quistis snorted. _Progress?__ Not much, I'm afraid.  She had managed to learn that this Finder's Way she'd be seeking was a plain silver rod topped with a sapphire, and that it's powers were fairly simple. It gave off light on command, revealed hidden doors and dispelled invisibility. __And the journal gave me nothing but a headache. The journal was written entirely in the strange code Gefrey had spoken of, like nothing she had ever seen. _

            _Maybe I'll go down to the pub...now, Quistis, this is hardly a time to be drinking. _

_            But bars are great places to here rumors and stories, she argued with herself. __Besides, I've been working all day. I'll be working all day tomorrow, too, and I'll probably get good and dirty at it. I should relax a bit while I can. _

_            That settled it. She got up, gathered the papers and the little book, and headed for her room. _

            The tavern room was full when she arrived, the workers from the fields without wives to go home to—a few with _with__ wives—for a bit of drink and company before heading home. There weren't many travelers in this part of the country, but for those that did, Starvale was a welcome stop along the way. _

            She took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of hard apple cider, which the bartender assured was the best anywhere. Across the room, a poker game ended. The winner stood, gloating, a burly bear of a man dressed in plain brown work clothes. She saw the man coming towards her before he reached the bar, silently cursing at him for ruining her evening right out of the gate. 

            "Hey, thar, honey," he drawled in what she guessed was supposed to be a seductive manner. "I've not seen you around here before."

            _ "That is because this is the first time I've been."_

            "Ah." He smiled knowingly. "An' I bet you'd like a guide, somebody to show ya the sights of Starvale."

            _Please. Couldn't you come up with anything better than that? "Actually, I've seen most of it already, thank you."_

            "But I bet you ain't seen my place," he grinned at her. Quistis thought she might die here and now under the assault of that horrible breath. She was contemplating how many times she could get her whip around his throat—not many, from the looks of it—when a strong arm came in between them. 

            "I believe the lady wishes to be left alone," a voice said softly. Resting a hand on the handle of Save the Queen, Quistis turned to regard the speaker.     

            She could barely contain her gasp as she set eyes on the most…beautiful man she'd ever seen.  The short sleeved gray shirt and worn leather breeches he wore did little to hide the rippling muscles of a perfect physique, lean and toned without bulging. He had moved between with silent, catlike grace, carrying himself with a quiet air of confidence that spoke of experience far beyond his apparently young years. Long, silky black hair hung far past his shoulders, like an ebony waterfall, perfectly framing chiseled features. Most wondrous were those eyes…Intense, nearly glowing pools of amethyst fire. 

            _Shut your mouth, Quistis, and don't drool._

            For a moment the burly man seemed as if he would argue the point, but the purple eyed warrior—for that was what Quistis was certain this man had to be—simply shifted his left hip forward and dropped a hand to casually rest on the hilt of a sword which hung there. Grumbling something about 'payin' damages,' he shuffled off towards the back door, presumably to find another female who was more…willing 

            "Thank you," Quistis said quietly as the stranger slid into the seat beside her. 

            "Not a problem, my lady. Sometimes we wanderers have to look out for each other."  His voice was music, a flow of liquid syllables that rained down on her like a shower of gold. 

            Quistis started as the thought completed itself in her mind.

            _Shower of gold?_

            "Do I know you?" she asked.

            He looked at her, a small smile crossing his face. "No, I don't believe so."

            "Where are you from?"

            He shrugged. "Nowhere. Everywhere. I don't remember. I've been on the road so long…" 

            "You didn't grow up in an orphanage, did you?" _What the hell are you doing, Trepe? This guy doesn't look anything like the children you remember. _

He regarded her more completely now. "No…No, I didn't. Why?"

            "…Nothing." _It was just a stupid dream! _"I'm Quistis."

            He was quiet for a long moment, as if trying to decide something. Finally he reached out a hand towards her. "I am Gabriel. Nice to meet you, Quistis." 

            She shook his hand and smiled. _Oh, good going, honey. Give your name to a complete stranger. _

_            He's not a stranger._

Quistis frowned, wondering where that thought had come from.

            "Something wrong?" Gabriel asked, tilting his head to the side. 

            _I know you._

"Oh, nothing…It's just that it's getting late, and I have an awful lot to do tomorrow.  It was nice meeting you, Gabriel."

            "Take care of youself, Quistis," he replied softly before returning to his drink. 

            Once outside in the cold autumn air, Quistis stopped to take a few deep breaths. _This is starting to get creepy. Rose petals in old notes, weird dreams I can only barely remember in the morning, and now this serious case of dejavu. I need a vacation. _

She laughed aloud at the absurdity of the notion. _Vacation?__ Never._ She started walking back down the road to the Vanderstyll Manor. Tomorrow would be a busy day…


	4. Rumble

"Oh, bloody hell…" Squall swore softly.

            Before even catching a glimpse himself, Zell knew the scene must be devastating to have elicited an expletive from their normally unemotional commander. He shared a quick, worried glance with Selphie before they followed Squall out of the Ragnarok and onto the road. 

            _The houses are still burning,_ Squall noticed dully, as if focusing on the smoldering homes would distract him from the carnage all around. There were bodies everywhere, men and women with faces twisted, frozen in horrifying visages of the terror that must have gripped their hearts in their final moments. Some of the bodies were charred beyond all recognition, while others had been drenched in their own blood. Their landing had upset a flock of buzzards, sending them into the sky to circle until the intruders left.       

            Down the road, Squall noticed transports lumbering towards them. Within a few minutes, the carriers bearing the crest of the government of Esthar pulled up beside the Ragnarok. Soldiers and what Squall assumed to be the clean-up crew began to stream out of the transports. One man broke away from the group and headed towards them.

            "SeeD?" he inquired.

            "Commander Leonhart," Squall replied curtly, offering his hand. Inside he winced at the title. 

            A grim smile spread across the soldier's face. "Sgt. Hilger, sir. We were told to wait for you, and when we saw your ship overhead, we had to step on it just to meet you. My instructions are to show you what my men and I discovered last night."

            The soldier turned and led them on into the small village. Selphie had to cover her nose and mouth as the stench of death assaulted them on all sides. She told herself to turn her revulsion into anger, so that she could help avenge the victims she saw lying all around her. She remembered Cid mentioning children, but she saw no small corpses. For this she was thankful. She didn't think she could have handled that. 

            Finally they reached what Squall guessed had been the town tavern. The front door was blasted apart, and the inside was covered in a sticky black tar-like substance. 

            "You see the edges of the blast mark?" Sgt Hilger asked, running a finger along the wood, causing flakes of the blasted material to come off into his hand. "Our analysis showed that this appeared to be fire damage, of an extremely high temperature. And yet," he pointed to the painted sign that still hung just above the door, "no blistering of the paint, as there should have been. There's more inside."

            They moved into the room cautiously, being careful not to step in any of the tarry black mess. The sergeant stood against the wall beneath a wall sconce. He pointed to a blast hole right beside the candle that still sat in the sconce. "Here, the blast hit so close, the candle should have melted completely and dripped down onto the floor. Yet, there is not even a mark on it"

            "Magical fire," Squall reasoned aloud.

            "Yes," Sgt. Hilger nodded, "and yet we know that fire magic summons real flame. As we started looking around, we also noticed that there appear to be no bodies belonging to the attackers. Of course, some of them _are _difficult, if not impossible, to identify."

            "Maybe they took their dead with them," Selphie spoke up.

            "Maybe, but there are no places holding evidence that anyone had fallen where there now is no body. The body count closely matches the population noted in the town logs."

            "Is there anything in those logs to indicate hostility of any nature, from any source?" Squall asked.

            Sgt. Hilger shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing but the normal reports of crop turnout and the latest marriages. This place is not anywhere near any kind of strategic location for…well, for anything. We're in the middle of nowhere. The only thing close by is the mountains, and the only thing up there is a few scattered villages." 

            Squall's eyes narrowed. So far they had found many more questions, and no answers. He turned towards Zell, opening his mouth to speak when there was a shout from the behind the bar doors that led into the kitchen.

            "Hey! There's somebody alive back here!"

            Quistis stood holding the old, dusty map Lord Gefrey had provided her while the workers pulled the rock and dirt away from the old mine entrance. She had been up before dawn, gathering her supplies and preparing for the long day ahead of her. She had resigned herself to the likelihood of this mission lasting for months with very little excitement involved, and while she silently cursed Cid for the unasked for "vacation," outwardly she was briskly professional, coolly explaining to the three individuals in front of her their roles once they had descended into the mine shafts. 

            The two brothers, Bret and Geral Iranstaugh, were stocky men with muscular arms thick from pounding away at metal for years. The sons of the local blacksmith, Quistis was certain Gefrey had pain handsomely to pull these two from the forge. They were armed with picks, shovels, and axes, probably forged, Quistis mused, by their own hands. Their role in battle, if battle should come, would be to move to the front and take the bulk of the blows. 

            Nadiana Loren was a slender, seemingly fragile woman with blonde hair so pale it was almost white. She was a ranger, and though she appeared as if a good wind might carry her away, she gripped her bow with practiced ease and moved more quietly than any such wind. Although more accustomed to running in the trees of the surrounding forest, she would be their scout, her keen senses their warning should danger approach. 

            A shout from the workers startled Quistis from her thoughts, and she turned as the last of the rock fell away. Beneath it gaped a dark hole, the mine entrance which had not seen sunlight for centuries. 

            Gefrey was at her elbow. "I will have someone to meet you at sunset, to escort you back to the manor. Take this with you to track the time." He handed her an oval shaped glass, and as she looked at it she saw it was hollow, with tiny tubes running up and down. Colored water moved in these tubes, and did not seem to notice gravity as she tipped it to the side.

            "It's a water clock," he explained. "Your watch will not work once you are under the mountain."

            "Why?"

            Gefrey shrugged. "No one knows. Something in the rock, perhaps. That water clock belonged to my grandfather, specifically for going into the mines. He never made it, I'm afraid, but I felt he would want it carried when someone finally did make the attempt." He smiled warmly at her. "Good luck, Ms. Trepe. I will see you at supper." He turned and walked back towards his horse. 

            "Ready?" Bret asked, winking at her. 

            "Yes. Nadiana, you take point. Let's go." Quistis picked up her pack and slung it onto her back, walking towards the cave mouth.

            _Plunge into the darkness…_

            She shuddered slightly, and looked behind her. There was nothing, no one but the two brothers talking quietly between themselves. She shook her head a little, reminding herself to keep her mind on the task at hand. 

Squall and Zell waited not so patiently outside the white canvas tent into the late 

afternoon. The medical hostel in town was part of the crime scene—and a gooey, bloody mess—so the soldiers had hastily erected a med tent. Zell had taken to shadow boxing to combat the boredom, while Squall just stood and stared at the mountains. They were hazy, almost as if they weren't real, but painted against the blue canvas of the sky. 

            _I wonder where Quistis is? _Squall blinked at the sudden thought. He hadn't thought about the blonde instructor all day, a welcome respite from the uncomfortable musings their last conversation had stirred. He glanced over at Zell, who had started drawing in the dirt with his heel. He debated for several long moments before speaking up.

            "Zell…do you think I….don't talk enough?  Shut you guys out?" _Oh, lovely, that was great. When you think about how long it took you to say that to him, Leonhart, I think you answered your own question._

Zell stopped and stared at Squall for a minute. "Wow. Um. Hm. I—"

            Before he could sputter out anything intelligible, Selphie came through the door of the tent. 

            "How is he?" Squall demanded. 

            Selphie cocked her head at him, as if to say _don't take that tone of voice with _me, _mister. _"Sleeping. He wasn't in condition to talk much, but you can grill him when he wakes up." 

            "Which will be when?"

            "In a few hours. In the mean time, boys, I'm going to go help with the clean up. If that's cool, Commander?" 

            Squall grimaced. _Not you too, Selphie. _He gave a curt nod.

            She winked at him before walking off. 

            The air was cool and damp, the sounds of the forest fading behind them, leaving only the sounds of their passing to echo down the corridors. Nadiana disappeared ahead of them, checking back about every fifteen minutes with word the corridor ahead was clear.  Quistis referred to the map often, and thankfully the miners had thought to number shafts with red paint, which showed well enough in their lamplight. Occasionally they would find a pickaxe or two, mostly rotted away with little but the rusted head left. A few hours had passed when they reached the site of the cave-in.  Nadiana was waiting there, taking a brief break to drink from her flask. 

            "Well, boys," she said softly to the brothers, "I believe it's your turn to do the work for a bit."

            Geral smiled at her as he and Bret began unpacking their digging equipment. "Work? Naw, 'tis more like a bit o' gardening, I think." He turned to Quistis. "You ladies just relax back there, out of the way. We'll have this rock cleared before ye finish dinner."

            She smiled back, chuckling a little at his optimistic—_very _optimistic, in her opinion—estimation. Her stomach reminded her that it was nearly noon, a fact confirmed by a glance at the water clock. She pulled the beef jerky from her pack and began to chew on it slowly, watching the brothers get to work. Although their family's current trade was working the smithy, they had come from mining stock. They removed the rubble as carefully as one might take apart an engine, one of them occasionally stopping to consider the whole pile before pulling one particular piece from its place.

            Geral's estimation of the time it would take them was a bit off, as a couple hours passed. Still, Quistis was impressed with their speed—she had expected this part to take days, rather than hours. Nadiana had roamed off to explore the shafts a bit, promising not to get beyond earshot. Quistis had just replenished the oil in her lantern when Geral called back to her. 

            "Finished! Ready to get movin' again, Ms. Trepe?"

            "Yes," Quistis breathed as she stood up, gathering her pack. She was just putting it on when there was a shout.

            "Hey," Bret called, "there's a hole here. Some kinda alcove…"

            Quistis turned just in time to watch Bret lean too far over the hole in the left side of the corridor. The rocks beneath his feet shifted suddenly, and he went plunging into the opening. 

            Quistis cried out, and Geral lunged at his brother, but it was too late. 


	5. Dust in the Wind

            "Bret!" Geral yelled down the shaft. Carefully, he peered down the dark hole, trying to discern its depth.  At that moment, Nadiana returned, and immediately she was at the hole beside him. She put her ear to the shaft, and patted Geral on the back.

            "Fear not," she said. "I can hear your brother's big mouth cursing. He's alive."

            Quistis breathed a sigh of relief. "How far down is he, do you think?"

            "It's hard to tell. If the shaft curves, the sound could be distorted."

            "I'm goin' down after him," Geral said, grabbing for the coils of rope on his pack. 

            "Are you sure that's wise?" Quistis asked. "We don't know how far down he is. The rope might not be long enough, and if you slipped, then you'd both be stuck down there."

            "Than what do we do? I'm not leavin' me brother down there."

            "No, of course not." Quistis touched the platinum pendant that hung against her skin, considering her options. "I will go down. If the rope fails, I have other methods open to me of getting us back up the shaft." 

            They secured the rope on one of the support beams that remained before Quistis slid gingerly into the hole. She began to climb down the rope slowly, glancing around in the dancing light of the flashlight she had secured to her belt. She noticed the walls of the chute seemed very smooth, cut so precisely it must have been man made. She had climbed down a good fourty feet when her hands slipped.

            Fortunately, the ground wasn't far. She found herself tumbling out of the chute and over a pile of rubble before rolling to a stop. She stood up, dusted herself off, and looked around. She was in a round room, half of which had collapsed. To her left, there was an oval shaped doorway, where she saw another light flickering. 

            "Bret?" she called, carefully picking her way to the doorway.

            "Ms. Trepe?" his voice echoed back to her. "Come here, quick!"

            Thinking the man might be injured or in trouble, Quistis ran quickly out of the room and nearly smacked into Bret, who was standing against the railing of the balcony, staring out at the view. Quistis stopped, her breath stolen, as her eyes fell on the incredible sight. 

            The tunnel opened up into a vast cavern, the ceiling of which was so high it was lost in the darkness. To their left, a set of stone steps curved gently down to the floor of the cavern, some fifty feet below. There, stone paths meandered among sculptures, benches, and raised patches of bare dirt where perhaps gardens might have once grown. Scattered about were tall, majestic fountains, their elegant spires reaching upwards like delicate fingers. Water had long since ceased flowing through them, but dark pools that shone like glass remained at their bases. At irregular intervals the paths would stretch out to the cavern wall, where arched doorways led to corridors running away from the dazzling cavern. Swirling, intricate knotwork designs covered every visible surface, carved with a precision and balance that defied all possibility of being the work of mortal hands. A strange, luminous yellow moss grew everywhere, casting a golden glow upon the scene and giving it a surreal look. 

Any moment, Quistis expected to hear angelic choruses, to see beams of light streaming down from the sky.  Instead, it was deathly silent, the quiet making her breathing sound like thunder in her ears. She didn't have to look at Bret to know he was equally entranced. 

_She stopped for a moment to look up at the stone archway she was passing under. Through the think vines, heavily laden with vibrant rose blooms, she could see the stone of the archway, carved in intricate, swirling arcs and intertwining angles. It was almost as if they had been meant to hold the vines that now grew over everything._

_"This place is very old…" _

_She looked past the archway, to the moss covered path beyond. She could see him, standing there, not looking at her, but feeling her presence with every fiber, every nerve. She knew this intimately, for she felt it as well. _

_"I know you."_

_He began to walk away from her, towards another archway._

_"But will you remember me?" She heard a sad note in his melodic voice. "When you stand in the heart of the city, will you think of us?"_

_"Us?"__ She could feel his sorrow as if it were a tangible thing, flowing around her, through her, springing warm tears to her eyes. They sparkled in the corners, diamonds against sapphires, before sliding silently down her cheeks. _

_"Who are you?" She could barely keep from sobbing. "I need to know!"_

_He turned, suddenly, his eyes stripping her soul bare. "Do you? Do you think you are ready to face the trials ahead? Are you strong enough? Will you survive the storm? When the wind whips the sand into your eyes, knocks you from your feet, drives the rain against your skin; when the lightning strikes overhead and the thunder is pounding in your ears, _will you be strong enough?"

Quistis gripped the balcony's stone railing, her knees weak as the vision faded and she again realized the sight of the cavern below them. She glanced at the awestruck man beside her, but he seemed to not have noticed anything was amiss. 

_What is going on here?_

Their reverie was shattered by the sound of rocks scittering across the floor behind them. 

"Bret!" Geral appeared, too happy to see his brother alive to notice the cavern immediately. Nadiana came shortly behind him.

            "We feared what had befallen you, and Geral insisted on following," the pale woman explained.

            _How long did we stand and stare? _Quistis wondered. _How long did that dream—vision? memory?—last?  A minute? An hour? It is so unreal…_ She looked back out at the cavern. Nadiana followed her gaze, and Quistis heard her voice catch in her throat as she took in the sight. 

            "This is incredible," Geral whispered softly after several long minutes had passed. 

            "Yes…" Quistis agreed. She walked slowly towards the steps. 

            "Where are you going?" 

            She looked back at the trio, an impish grin curving her lips. "C'mon. We're supposed to be searching, right? Let's go take a look."

            _"It was the middle o' the afternoon. I was takin' out the garbage fer Mr. Ritten, when a dark cloud crossed the sun. I looked up, an' there they came. They had red skin, the color o' blood, an' their faces looked less human an' more...demon. They carried black sword that shook an' flickered like flame, an' they rode black monsters, lookin' like possessed, twisted horses, with flames comin' out o' their mouths and sparks a flyin' from their hooves."_

_            The man began to weep, sobbing as he choked out his tale. "They killed everybody, everythin'. Hyne, help us…they'll come back…they'll come back fer me…Hyne, please…"_

Squall could hardly repress a shudder as he went over the survivor's words in his mind. There had been a wild look in the man's eyes, the look of one who had stared into the heart of hell and had not been granted the peace of death. 

            Squall had hoped to question the man, but the attending medic had ordered them all out of the tent, glaring at him and telling them if they wanted to talk more, they would just have to wait. Truly, even the professional, methodical commander had no desire to force the man to live through his experience again, just for the sake of their investigation. The sound of the poor man's screaming in his sleep was enough to spur him to find other means to investigate. 

            They had returned to the Ragnarok, to rest and consider their options. Selphie sat in the cockpit, staring out the window at the ravaged village. Zell fidgeted in one of the passenger seats, waiting impatiently while Squall leaned back in his chair, going over what they knew in his mind. Finally, Selphie turned back to him, hope and fear clouding her sparkling eyes.

            "Squall?"

            "Hmm."

            "You know, one of the Guardians might know something…if one of us summoned them."

            Squall sat up. "That's true…if we can convince one of them to _talk_ to us."

            "Shiva's always willing to talk," Zell said quietly. Indeed, often the Ice Queen seemed almost lonely, thirsty for human interaction. 

            "Call her, then," Squall commanded.

            Zell quieted his mind and closed his eyes, softly whispering the words that would call the beautiful Shiva to them. A few moments—not many, for Shiva was always quick, anxious even, to answer his calling—and the room grew cold. Tiny motes of dancing blue light began to swirl around them as the shafts of ice burst skyward from the floor of the Ragnarok. The ice shattered, and a delicate, elven woman stood before them, her hands outstretched as she called the little motes of light to her. Her skin was a shade of the palest blue, dark in all the right places. Long golden hair streamed behind her, dancing softly behind her delicate shoulders as she looked around. Her cold blue eyes fell on Zell, and a faint smile warmed her face, as warm as the Ice Queen ever could be. 

            **"Zell," she said softly. ****"I see no battle. What is it you wish of me?" There was the faintest hint of hope in her unearthly voice as it wrapped around them. Her mouth moved, and sound came from her dark blue lips, but it was overlapped by the same voice echoing inside their minds. **

            "Shiva," Zell cleared his throat. "This village that we are in…they were attacked last night. Only one man survived."

            **"We go to battle the attackers?"**

            "We hope so…" Zell glanced at Squall.

            "There was one survivor," Squall stood, taking the initiative. "He told us the attackers were demons, with red skin and carrying swords made of fire. The fire didn't seem to be hot, though, from the damage they left behind. We were hoping you might know something."

            **"Hmm…The realm of flame is not one well known to me," she chuckled. ****"Ice and fire do not mix well. Perhaps…" she sighed, ****"you should ask Ifrit."**

            "Yeah," Selphie piped in, "but Ifrit's not much of a talker."

            **"Diablos?" **

            Squall shuddered. "I'd rather not summon him with nothing nearbye for him to kill."

            Shiva laughed, a musical sound like the tinkling of a thousand crystal bells. **"I see your point. I can, perhaps, ask around and see what I might learn. Summon me again in one day, and I will get what answers I may. Until then, my Zell," she whispered before fading away.**

            Selphie glanced at Zell, a little smirk playing on her face. "'My Zell'? I think she's sweet on you!"

            "Don't be silly," Zell mumbled. "C'mon, she's a…she's a…well, I'm not sure what she is, besides a Guardian. She's just protective, that's all. She takes being a Guardian seriously."

            "Sounds like you know an awful lot about her," Selphie giggled. 

            "Besides, she's made of ice!"

            "Is she?" Squall spoke up. "Do you know this personally, Zell?"

            Selphie gaped at their brown haired commander while Zell blushed. "My Hyne, Squall Leonhart, are you participating in a conversation?"

            Squall shrugged. "Maybe…"

            Selphie giggled again. "I see. Squall Leonhart, Commander, new edition! Upgrade from 'whatever' to 'maybe' while it's hot!" She gave a squelched "oof!" as she was tackled. Her shouts of protest quickly turned to squeal of hysterical laughter as Zell took advantage of Squall's distraction and started tickling her. 

            "Oh! Stop it! Haha! Stop! I'm gonna tell Irvy on  you!!!!"

            "Oh," Squall replied dryly, standing up and standing back. "I'm scared."

            Zell stopped tickling Selphie, and they both looked up at him, curiosity gleaming in their eyes. "What's gotten into you, Squall."

            He shrugged. "Nothing. Better get some sleep. We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow." He walked out the sliding doors and down the hallway. 

            _Nothing…_

_            That's what you'll end up with in the end..._

            It felt as if they had walked the long, meandering corridors for hours, although Quistis knew it had only been a few minutes. There was a hushed feeling in the place, and everything was covered with a fine layer of dust. 

            "This place is very old," Nadiana said reverently. "I doubt the anyone in Starvale knows this is here."

            "Or anyone else, for that matter," Geral added. He looked at Quistis. "Or does Garden know anything about this place?"

            "No. There's nothing in any history book I've ever read about a people with this sort of style in their architecture.  I've never seen artistry like this. The design, the style…it's beautiful." 

            They came to one of the corridors, it's high archway covered in carvings, with strands of the luminous moss hanging down. On the floor, beneath the dirt of ages, Quistis could see a carving set in an otherwise smooth circle. She kicked at the dirt a bit, to reveal the carving. 

            "A book," she said in wonderment. She shine the flashlight down the corridor. It wasn't very long, and at the end of it she could make out a set of large, double doors. She gestured at the others to follow her as she made her way down the hall. She passed between towering statues, the first carvings that were something other than geometric designs. They appeared to be slender men dressed in long flowing robes, holding in their hands open tomes. They reached the doors, mammoth things carved of green agate, it's color dulled by the layers of dirt and dust. Quistis reached out towards the door handles.

            "Stop," Nadiana stepped in front of her. "We do not know what the owners may have put on these doors to prevent their opening. Let me check them first."

            Quistis paused, then nodded her agreement. Nadiana began running her fingers light along the doorway, checking all the cracks with touch and sight. She tapped on the surface, laying her delicate ear against the stone. After a few minutes, she looked back at Quistis and nodded. The blonde SeeD took a deep breath, grabbed the door handle, and pulled.

            Nothing happened.

            Quistis chuckled shakily. "It's locked."

            Nadiana took a look at the handle. "No….I don't think it's locked. I think it's just old."

            "Here, let me try," Geral said, grasping the handle and giving a mighty pull. At first, nothing happened, but after a few moments, they heard the door began to creak, and slowly it swung open. Quickly, Quistis stepped over the threshold, Bret following a step behind her with the lantern. 

            There was no moss in this room, and Bret had to lift the lantern high before they could see anything. When they did, Quistis gave a gleeful gasp. In the center of the room were tables and chairs, covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The walls were covered in shelves that went all the way up to the ceiling several stories above them, and they were filled with books. 

            "Wow," Bret said softly. "Would you look at that."

            "A library," Quistis said, walking over to the shelves. She pulled one of the tomes from the shelf, and nearly choked from the cloud of dust that was sent swirling into the air. Blinking away tears, she flipped open the book. 

            "I can't read this," she gave a disappointed sigh, leafing through the pages. They were adorned in intricate, precise symbols that swam before her irritated eyes. Something seemed familiar about them, though…

            "Hey," Nadiana called from the other side of the room, "I _can_ read this!"

            They gathered around her and looked over her shoulder at the crumbling book she held in her hands. 

            "'New Common to Ashinoav,'" Quistis read from the front page. "It's a language book! It probably translates everything!"

            "Well, not _everything_," Nadiana noted, turning a page. Time had destroyed large parts of many of the pages, and it looked from the binder to be missing an entire section in the back. 

            "No matter," Quistis said, "It's something to work with." Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, reminding her that lunch was some time ago. She looked down at the water clock. 

            "I hate to say this," she sighed, "but we had better get going. It's getting late." 

            The others agreed quietly. Nadiana took her cloak and carefully wrapped the book before handing it to Quistis. "Should we tell anyone about this place?"

            Quistis pondered the question for a few minutes. She didn't know if this place had anything to do with the Finder's Way…But just the thought of all the greedy treasure hunters and "well-meaning" archeologists that would swarm the place as soon as word got out made her shudder. "No," she decided. "Not for now, anyway. Not until we know more. We don't want all kinds of people running down here, being nosy, and getting themselves hurt. So we speak of this to no one." She looked sternly at her team. The brothers exchanged a quick glance, and just when she was starting to worry, they both grinned at her at the same time. 

            "Don't worry, Ms. Trepe," Geral spoke. "We're getting' paid well enough!"


	6. Dance

Light was streaming from nearly every window of the manor house, lighting up the courtyard as Quistis approached. The sounds of people talking, laughing, and music playing reached her ears, and she looked at the servant who was escorting them with a raised eyebrow. 

            "Oh, it's tonight?!" Nadiana exclaimed suddenly behind her. 

            "What's tonight?" she asked, puzzled.

            "The Harvest Ball," Geral responded, winking at his brother. "Every year at harvest, the Vanderstylls throw at least one big party, usually two or three. They invite everyone in Starvale, everybody dances and drinks and generally has a good time."

            "Oh," she said quietly. She hadn't expected this, and certainly hadn't packed any clothes for it. Inwardly she shrugged. She probably wouldn't enjoy it, anyway. She didn't really know anyone here in Starvale, and she certainly didn't have anyone to dance with…

            They reached the front door, and found Gefrey waiting for them. "Good evening!" he greeted them. "How did everything go?" he asked as he escorted them into the foyer. Dried floral arrangements in harvest colors, pumpkins, blooming chrysanthemums, and fat orange and yellow pillar candles were everywhere. From the light and noise, the party was in full swing beyond the huge oak doors that led into the manor's ballroom. 

            Quistis paused. "I would like to speak to you about it later, more privately."

            He raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Good news, I hope. Well, later it shall be. You must attend the ball!"

            She took a step towards the left sweeping staircase that led upstairs and to her room. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring anything appropriate to wear."

            "Ah, I see." Gefrey sighed. "That's too bad, Ms. Trepe, because it is a truly splendid party.  Well, I'll send someone up with some supper, or you can take the back stairs down to the kitchen. I shall see you in the morning."

            Quistis nodded graciously and ascended the wide, carpeted stairs. She ran her hand along the smooth wood of the banister as she walked up, before reaching the balcony and turning down the hallway. The thick carpet muffled her steps as she walked down the quiet, dimly lit hallway. She reached her room and opened the door, reaching around the corner to flick the light on before entering. She noticed immediately that someone—one of the servants, likely—had lit a small fire in the fireplace, warming the room and giving it a cheery, rosy glow. She dropped her bags on the floor and head towards the bathroom, determined to wash the trail dirt away, but stopped as her gaze fell on the bed.

            There was a large white box, wrapped in a blue ribbon, sitting on the foot of the bed. Her eyes narrowed, her mercenary instincts warning her against opening it. 

            _But then, I'm sure Gefrey must have known about it, since it came into his house, _she reasoned. Despite the warnings in the back of her mind, she reached for it, pulling off the soft, velvety ribbon and removing the lid. She reached in, pulled back the white tissue paper, and gasped.

            It was made of dark blue velvet that felt as smooth as silk to her fingertips as she carefully lifted it from the box. The fabric shimmered in the light as the dress unfurled to the floor, somehow reminding Quistis of starlight. It was sleevless, with a high neck in the front, the back cut open in a oval. In the box beneath the dress was a pair of strappy, silver shoes. 

            There were no tags on either, but Quistis could tell they were her size. She held the velvety fabric against her cheek, wondering. _Who could've sent this?_

            _I think you should go, _a little voice said inside her head. 

            _Why? _she argued with herself. _It's just a silly party. _

_            Oh, come on, Trepe. _She believed her mind voice actually sounded exasperated with herself. _Let loose and enjoy yourself for a little while. Don't worry about who sent it. Maybe it was Gefrey, knowing you wouldn't have packed anything like this. You're not being graded here, this is no high profile, high pressure, better-get-it-done-right-away mission. Relax! _

She sighed. Telling herself the whole way that she shouldn't be doing this, she headed for the bathroom. 

            The ballroom was alive, teeming with every color known, swirling around on the dance floor in ladies gowns and brightly dotting the long banquet tables laden with dozens of succulent dishes. Hundreds of tiny lights had been strung from the banister of the second floor balcony that ran all around the ballroom, drawing the viewer's eyes up and to the great chandelier, a wrought black iron construction that held hundreds of little, artificial candles. The musicians sat on a slightly elevated stage in the corner, currently playing a traditional country reel, which many residents of Starvale were dancing joyously to in familiar, practiced steps. Lord Gefrey and Lady Elana sat at the head table, directly across from the massive oak doors, looking over the revelry and enjoying their meal, stopping occasionally to share a brief smile and comment with one of their guests. 

            Gabriel leaned back in his chair, sipping slowly at his glass of wine as he surveyed the crowd. He had already turned away a few young ladies who had come boldy to ask him to dance, and was content for the moment to sit and watch the young people whirling and laughing on the dance floor. He sat there, soaking up the warmth and the laughter, so different from the cold, lonely road he had just left behind him, knowing he would be called to it again someday soon. He closed his eyes briefly, letting the smells and sounds fill his other senses. When he again opened his brooding, amethyst eyes, she was there.

            He spotted her from across the room, looking a little bit of uncomfortable and a great deal of lonely. The cascading mane of soft, silky hair shone like spun gold in the bright light of the ballroom, the dark blue dress softly hugging her toned, womanly curves down to her hips before falling gracefully to the floor. The hue of the dress seemed to bring out the brilliant blue of her eyes, and he almost shivered when those sapphire orbs seemed to meet his for a brief instant. 

            Quistis took a steadying breath before stepping out from under the balcony's sheltering shadow and making her way across the ballroom floor. She flowed between the myriad of people easily, glancing around for Lord Gefrey. She spotted him sitting at the head table, and walked in his direction. 

_I'll just say hello to Lord Gefrey, get something to eat, and then retire, she assured herself. __After all, I don't know anyone, so there'll be no dancing, and no one knows me, really, so I won't be missed when I go. _

She had expected something like the SeeD graduation ball, and at first, it did seem similar. As she moved out among the people, however, she realized there was a difference. There was no awkwardness here, except perhaps among some of the young people whose hormones had put them in that stage. At SeeD graduation balls, the students gathered to meet and get to know each other, often for the first time. These guests had known each other for years, some for generations. There was a friendliness and openness here that she had never felt before. Surely, SeeD had often felt like a family, but not like this.  She felt a wave of loneliness sweep over her, as she lamented all the emotions she had never known that these people held cupped in their farmer's hands. 

As she walked, she let her gaze wander around the edge of the room. She caught of glimpse of a flash of purple that seemed somehow familiar, but a pair of dancers spun into her line of sight. 

            He watched her glide her way towards Lord Gefrey's table, moving through the shifting crowd of people with ease. He took a final, determined drink of his wine and stood up. He smoothed down his jacket, straightened the rose that was pinned to his lapel, and began walking. 

            "Ms. Trepe!" Gefrey smiled warmly at the blonde SeeD. "I'm so glad you changed your mind!"

            Quistis smile back tentatively. "Yes, well, the dress was just so beautiful, I thought it would be a shame not to wear it…" _There…maybe that'll get him to admit to sending it._

_            Lady Elana looked it over with an approving eye. "Yes, it is quite lovely, dear. Wherever did you get it?"_

            "Yes," Gefrey agreed, "I thought you said you had nothing appropriate to wear."

            Quistis frowned. "Well, I'm not sure…It was on my bed…"

            "Ah, the package that came for you this afternoon," Gefrey nodded, remembering. "Benton said he had looked into it, and it seemed harmless enough, so he had it sent to your room."

            "Did anyone say who it came from?"

            "Well, no, actually…"

            "If I may interrupt," a smooth, melodic tenor that sent unexpected shivers down Quistis's spine interjected, "but I would like to ask the lady for a dance."

            She turned to face the speaker, and even though she recognized him, she could not quite contain the tiny gasp that escaped her lips at the stunning sight. His ebony hair was tied back away from his face, allowing a full view of his breathtakingly handsome features. He wore a collarless steel gray shirt with flat black buttons, pressed charcoal pants and a matching jacket. A red rose stood out in all its crimson glory against his breast, its soft, silky petals echoing the fluidity of his movements. 

            "So," he said softly, "will you dance, Lady Wanderer?" 

            For a minute, he didn't think she was going to answer him. Her brilliant sapphire eyes bored into him, searching. She seemed to be silently arguing with herself, contemplating his invitation. For a moment, he felt the tiniest of butterflies flutter briefly in his stomach. 

            _What is wrong with you, Andovar, he chided himself roughly. __Everything is right on target. This will work. You've done it a hundred times before. This is no different. _

            She had to remind herself to breathe in before answering. _No, her mind said, but her lips betrayed her. _

"Yes," she replied. Thank Hyne, her voice did not fail her, as she heard it echo in her ears, strong and confident. "But first, I should like to eat something. So, later?"

            Gabriel wasn't sure if that was quite the response he had been looking for or not, but he decided to make the best of it.         "Well, if that is the case, ma'am, then allow me to escort you to the tables." He offered his arm, throwing a wink at Lord Gefrey. "Hyne knows these farmer boys can be downright animals when it's feeding time."

            Gefrey chuckled, taking the gentle teasing for what it was. "Do go, Ms. Trepe. Enjoy yourself."  
            "Do you know Lord Gefrey?" she asked as they walked towards the banquet tables. 

            Gabriel shrugged. "As well as any other in Starvale. Lord Gefrey has never made anyone feel he was anything more than his neighboring farmer. When barns are raised, he's there. When it's time for sheep shearing, he's there. He's a part of every wedding and funeral, and not just because he's the town leader, but because he's everyone's friend.  That's just the kind of person he is."

            Quistis raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were a fellow wanderer, Mr…"

            "Andovar," he supplied, chuckling softly. "Aye, I wander. I've been off to see the world and make what living I may. But believe me, there aren't many who find their way into Starvale by accident. A few years back, I had a traveling companion who grew up here. We've long since parted ways, but this town…well, it kind of grows on you. It's isolated….untouched by all the craziness in the rest of the world."

            "Oh," she said, quieting as they reached the buffet. They remained silent as she put a few things on her plate before making their way to the table Gabriel had been sitting at, located just at the edge of the room, almost beneath the balcony. 

            "So," Gabriel said at length, after Quistis had eaten much of her meal, "Why are _you in Starvale?"_

            "I…" Quistis stopped for a moment, considering how much she should reveal. "I'm here working for Lord Gefrey for a few months."

            "Doing what?"

            "Ah…" her brain worked furiously, trying to decide whether to tell the truth or come up with something else. "Doing research for him, about his grandfather."

            "I see. That must be exciting," he observed dryly. 

            She couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, just thrilling." Her thoughts drifted to the amazing city she had been standing in just a few hours ago, and she turned her attention back to her meal. Gabriel grabbed a couple of glasses of wine from a passing waiter, and sipped at his while she finished her meal. They sat for several long moments, silently observing the people around them and pointedly not looking at each other. Finally, Gabriel stood.

            "Well, my lady," he said, "I believe it is now time for that dance." 

            _Just my luck, Quistis thought as they approached the dance floor. The musicians shifted their song, slowing the tempo into a soft, mellow waltz. Then she stole a glance at the man walking beside her. __Then again…maybe…_

            _Ah, Trepe, she scolded herself. __Get a grip. He can't be too interested…no one ever is. You're reading way __too much into this. _

            Gabriel took her hand in his, resting his other hand gently on her hip. Her skin seemed to tingle where he touched her, and she keenly felt his warmth even through the fabric of her dress. Slowly, they began to move, easing gracefully into the flowing steps of the waltz. 

            She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, but it slowly disappeared as they danced and she began to relax. Soon, the people around them began to fade as she focused more and more on this purple eyed warrior who was holding her just a little bit closer.

            _They were in a ballroom, strung everywhere with bouquets of roses and baby's breath. Green plants lined the walls, and the doorways were decorated with stone archways, giving the whole place the look of a garden. The floor was a highly polished marble, strewn with rose petals. _

_            The music was clearer now, wrapping around them, filling her ears and her heart as she looked up at him. Everything was right, everything was perfect. Tonight was their night, and nothing, no one, was going to spoil it. _

_            Quistis looked up at Gabriel, her eyes puzzled. As his eyes met hers fully, the strangest feeling of familiarity swept over her. _

            _I know you._

_            "Who are you?" she whispered._

            "Excuse me?" Gabriel asked gently. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you."

            "Nothing…"

            He chuckled. "You are a strange one, Ms. Trepe."

            _The ballroom faded away, the sounds of the other guests' voices disappearing into the music. Gently he kissed her hair as they danced. Her eyes closed, she smiled softly. Around them the roses fluttered down like rain, creating a hush in the garden, like the silence of a snowfall. Their music became a sweet melody that drifted to them on the wind as they danced alone._

_            For the first time in her life, Quistis decided not to question, decided to relax and enjoy this brief moment. Tomorrow she'd be back down the mine shafts, and would likely spend many more weeks getting dirty and shivering in the depths, hunting for the Finder's Way. Gabriel would be moving on, and she'd probably never see him again. Reassuring herself of this, she allowed him to pull her a little closer, until all her vision was filled with him, and those entrancing, amethyst eyes…_

            _Suddenly the wind grew cold, whipping her hair into her face and obscuring her vision. He let go, and she stumbled backward, barely catching herself before falling. The garden was illuminated with a few harsh flashes of lightning. How had the storm crept up on them so quickly? She watched him turn to walk away._

_            "Wait!" she cried. "Where are you going?"_

_            "Our dance is over, sweet rose," he told her bitterly. "But our song will never end. Someday we'll meet again."_

_            Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. "Promise?"_

_            He paused, and she could see his back tense. "I…hope so….Goodbye…"_

_            Sudden, unexpected tears stung Quistis's eyes, and she tore her gaze away from him. Hyne must have been looking out for her, for at that moment, the song ended. She quickly broke away from Gabriel's hold. _

            "Thank you," she said hurriedly, "but it is late, and I must go. Good night."

            Gabriel watched blankly as the blonde woman walked away, towards the doors that would take her out of the ballroom. "Good…night?"

            Quistis shut the door and leaned up against it, breathing a deep sigh of relief. She looked around the room quickly before heading for the bathroom, stripping off the dress as she went. A cold shower would make her feel better, would clear her head. Then she would get some sleep. Everything would be normal again in the morning. 

            She suddenly realized she was holding something. She looked down at her hand. 

            It was the rose that had been pinned to Gabriel's jacket. 

            Gabriel stepped into his room, giving it a quick sweeping glance before shutting and locking the door behind him. He took off his jacket, laying it across the back of his chair, and kicked off his shoes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching back and freeing his ebony hair. He ran his fingers through it a few times before looking at the phone sitting on the nightstand.

            Suddenly he found himself thinking about her. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell her, dancing so close to him…

            _Snap out of it. He told himself sternly. It was just the anticipation of a new pursuit that was sending shivers up his spine. __You've done this a hundred times before, she is no different. This will be a little harder…she's a trained warrior, just like you. She's been burned before, so she'll be a little reluctant…_

_            Just like you…_

_            Gabriel shook his head. That was the wine talking. He knew he shouldn't have had that second glass. __Gods, Andovar, you're getting clumsy. A cold shower would clear his head. Yes, a shower, and then sleep. Right after he made that phone call…._


	7. And the Rain Began to Fall

Quistis stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the silvery moonlight dance across its surface. She sighed and rolled over, looking at the digital clock that sat next to the phone. Biting her lip, she finally decided. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the phone. 

            She continued to chew on her lip as she listened to the ringing, waiting for someone to pick up. Even though it was very late—one thirty a.m. according to the glaring red digits on the clock—on the other side of the world in Balamb it would be just before supper time. At the very least, she could leave him a message.

            "Hello?" a light, cheerful woman's voice finally answered. 

            "R-Rinoa?"

            "Oh, hey Quisty," the dark haired beauty replied happily. "How is everything going?"

            "Fine…Is Squall there?"

            "No, I'm sorry. He, Zell, and Selphie are out in the field."

            "He's in the field?"

            Rinoa giggled. "Yeah, isn't it great? He was getting so antsy, sitting around here! I think he was jealous of you. After you left, he spent, like, every day in the practice gym working out when he wasn't doing paperwork or with me."

            "Oh?" Quistis was surprised to hear that. _Because of me? she wondered silently. __Maybe because of what I said? Was he really listening to me? "Well, if you hear from him, just let him know I called. I was just checking up with you guys, making sure the world's still safe."_

            Clear laughter rang out on the other end of the phone. "Sure, I'll tell him. Got a number? Oh, wait," she laughed again, "its right here on the ID."

            "Well, I'll talk to you later, Rin."

            "Sure, Quisty. Bye-bye."

            Gently hanging the phone up, Quistis looked around the room. _I'm never going to get any sleep. Her eyes fell on her pack, still sitting by the door where she had dumped it earlier. __I guess I could get some work done. _

            She got up out of bed and pulled on a silky purple robe before picking the bag up off the floor. She started to set it on the bed, but one look at all the trail dirt covering it made her think better of that. Instead, she sat it on the floor next to the bed, leaned down and dug in, pulling out the precious item still wrapped in Nadiana's cloak. She ran her fingers reverently over the writing on the cover. _This book could be hundreds of years old, she thought. __Maybe a thousand. She opened the book and began flipping carefully through the pages. The beginning gave a brief discussion about the rising popularity of a common language being used among the humans, and that this book was intended so that the people could continue to trade with outsiders, by teaching humans the language of Ashino. _

            Quistis blinked. _The "humans"?_

            The stablemaster sat leaned back in his chair with his feet propped up on a barrel, listening to the whisper of the wind. The stable was quiet inside, with just the steady, rhythmic breathing of the animals. He didn't look up as the creak of the house door broke the quiet and the young stable hand stepped in. __

            "Geesh," the sandy-haired lad said as he brushed a golden leaf from his cloak. "It's gettin' awful foggy out there."

            "Mmm," the stablemaster acknowledged the boy. "Did ya enjoy yerself, boy?"

            The boy blinked. "What do you mean?"

            The stablemaster gave him a lewd wink. "I saw ye dancin' wi' young Josie in there. Do ye know what time it is?"

            A faint blush stained the boy's cheeks. "No," he admitted.

            "It's past one, and past my bedtime. The bitch'll be havin' her pups any day now, an' ye know how Lord Gefrey is about his dogs."

            The boy sighed. "I know, I know. Stayin' up all forsaken night until she has 'em."

            "That's right." The stablemaster stood and stretched, gathering his book, reading glasses, and his flask. He was just reaching for his cloak when there was a thump on the roof. 

            "Eh?" he inquired to the air, looking up. "What was that?"

            Gefrey stood quietly at the window, looking out over the darkened garden, the silver moonlight turning the carefully manicured bushes and trees, flowers and paths into a strange maze of shadows. The wind was picking up, he noted, watching the branches toss to and fro, sending swirls of dying leaves dancing away. A fog was rolling in from the north, obscuring anything beyond the garden.

The ball had gone well, as always. He spent much time looking forward to opening his home to all the people in this quaint village, people he had known his whole life and were as much family to him as the beautiful woman slumbering behind him. Downstairs, he knew there were servants still up, clearing away the dishes and cleaning the ball room. He debated going downstairs and ordering them all to bed, but he knew they would just smile at him and shoo him away. 

_I am a very lucky man. He heard his wife stir behind him._

            "Gefrey?" she asked softly, her voice heavy with sleep. "Come to bed."

            "In a few minutes, dear," he replied, staring out at the garden. He felt an uneasy fluttering in the pit of his stomach, and he knew that even when he went to her in their warm bed, he'd find no rest tonight. 

            With a resigned sigh, he turned away from the window, laying his robe on the bench at the foot of the bed before sliding under the covers to join his wife. 

            He didn't see the shadows move, flitting across the garden towards the house. 

            She continued to read on, into the text, where it began to give translations for the many intricate symbols that apparently made up the Ashinoav language. At first she was flipping casually, when she spotted one symbol that she _knew she recognized. _

            "Wait," she whispered softly to herself, her eyes growing wide. "I know where I've seen this before!" She reached back into the pack and pulled out old Lord Vanderstyll's journal. Excitedly she flipped it open and thumbed to the page with the symbol she had recognized. 

            "Angel!" she exclaimed to the darkness of the room. "This means angel!" She had figured it out; Vanderstyll's journal was written entirely in this strange, foreign language!

            The strange thump on the roof was followed by the sudden whinny of one of the horses. Soon all the animals were awake, pawing the ground nervously.

            "Shhhh," the stable hand murmured to the horse nearest him, a chocolate brown mare. He rubbed her between the eyes and carefully stroked her flank, while the stablemaster reached for his cloak and his old shotgun. 

            "I'm gonna go see what that was," the stablemaster told him, heading towards the door. 

            Quistis was beginning to go through the two books, trying to find other matches. It would be tedious work, she knew, but this was just the sort of challenge she loved to overcome. Before she got very far, however, she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up, her warrior instincts crying out to her. She froze for a moment, and then, as casually as she could, put the two books back in her pack, at the same time closing her hand around the reassuring feel of Save the Queen.  

            She pulled the whip completely from the bag and straightened up, just as the glass in the windows shattered.

            The boy had been right; there was a thick fog blanketing everything. From where he was standing, the stablemaster could not even see the manor house. He walked around the corner of the stable, looking for the ladder that would lead up to the roof. He thought he heard a muffled thud again, but in the fog he couldn't be sure of where it came from. 

            He jerked to the right as a dark shape solidified out of the fog, hurtling just past him. He leveled the shotgun to take aim, but realized the figure was too close as it leaned in and struck, a black gloved hand connecting solidly with his jaw. Changing tactics, the stablemaster swung the shotgun around like a club, and gave a satisfied grunt as he felt it connect solidly. His satisfaction was short lived, however, as more dark shapes began appearing. His last thought was of the dog lying in the stable. 

            _Hyne knows, her damned pups'll come tonight…_

            Gefrey sat straight up in bed, the sound of shattering glass echoing clearly in the room. He looked around, but his own room seemed quiet. 

            "Elana," he shook her shoulder. 

            "Mmm?" she mumbled, blinking at him. 

            "Get dressed, fast," he whispered harshly. "Someone has broken in."

            Several more sounds of breaking windows reverberated in the room, gripping Gefrey's stomach with iron hands. Elana's eyes widened, and she was already reaching for her robe. 

            "Sounds like several someones," she replied grimly, fully awake now. She slipped her feet in her warm slippers and ran to the closet, rummaging around on the top shelf. Gefrey dressed hurriedly in his riding leathers, as she returned from the closet. She held a small handgun, which she kept for herself, and his sword. He slid it reverently out of its scabbard, taking a brief moment to admire its workmanship. It had been passed to him by his father, who had traveled the world extensively before settling down. Gefrey remembered the many stories his father had told him and his brothers as they sat around him in a wide-eyed circle. Now, it seemed, the time had come for the gleaming silvery sword to shed blood once again. 

            _It might not come to that, Gefrey told himself as he headed for the door, motioning for Elana to stay behind him. In his heart, however, he knew better._

            Two figures stood in her room, surrounded by shards of broken glass. They had hesitated after leaping in, staring at her, as if formulating their plan of attack before moving. Quistis wasn't going to give them the chance, and their hesitation gave her a needed opening that she pounced on. 

            The whip cracked loudly in the man on the left's ears, and as he brought his hands up to shield his face, she took the opening, wrapping the end of Save the Queen around the pistol still holstered at his side. With a yank she had it out of his belt and in her hand. 

            The man on the right reached down to his boot and flicked his hand, sending the small dagger flying for her throat. Quistis proved the faster, snapping the deadly projectile right out of the air. She started whispering the quiet words of magic, feeling the fire burning in her chest. She tapped that fire with practiced ease, and watched satisfactorily as electricity arced through one of her opponents. 

            The other attacker made a desperate lunge, catching her in the moment of distraction brought by the casting of a spell. He tackled her with a solid thud, bringing them both to the ground. In their struggle, he managed to get angled around to connect his fist solidly with her gut. 

            As she was gasping for air, she noticed the other figure had ceased involvement in the combat, and was rifling through her things in the armoire. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her pack—containing the two precious tomes—laying on the floor on the other side of the bed. 

            The platinum pendant hanging against her skin was growing warm. With a small, evil smile she began to chant again, this time twisting the words of magic into words of calling. She grimly accepted the man's blows, and soon she could no longer feel them as hazy silver light began to envelop her. A satisfied grin spread across her face when she saw her attacker lean back away from her a little, looking above her head, knowing what he saw there as the silver light began to take shape. 

            Out of the rolling clouds of light, great platinum wings stretched out, filling the room with leathery might. A roar reverberated off the stones, as Bahamut, the platinum dragon, rushed to aid his caller. His silver scales seemed to shimmer in the light, and deep blue eyes, far too intense to belong to any mortal being, narrowed as he surveyed the situation. Quistis was chanting again, focusing all her energy on Bahamut's enveloping presence, lending her strength to augment his. 

            Gathering his might, Bahamut drew in a great breath, and the attacker knew his end was at hand. The mighty blast knocked the unfortunate man off his feet, and double thuds rang in Quistis's ears as both men, caught in the power of the dragon, literally bounced off the opposite walls. 

            **"It has been many days, young one," Bahamut's powerful voice echoed in her mind, sending a strange sensation up and down her limbs. **

            "It has been many days since I needed you," Quistis replied, standing up and brushing herself off. 

            Draconic laughter rolled over her like thunder. **"Come now, child, I am more than just combative might. We are similar, you and I."**

**            She cocked her head, considering the immortal being resting easily before her. From the moment they had fought the great dragon in the depths of the deep sea research center, Quistis had felt kindred with Bahamut. Their spirits were similar, forged of the same pure silver fire. Indeed, nothing made her feel quite as alive as that brief moment when their souls would touch in battle, when she almost dreamed she had become Bahamut, raining her powerful justice down on her enemies.**

            The sounds of people shouting and more glass breaking brought Quistis's attention back to the present. "I fear I will be needing you much this night," she said to the dragon as she grabbed her pack up off the floor and slung it onto her back. 

            **"Simply call, dear Quistis," Bahamut's voice drifted to her as he began to fade away. ****"I am always waiting…"**

            Gefrey and Elana reached the balcony above the great hall without incident. They looked down, to see servants fleeing and men wearing dark clothing running about. Silently Gefrey gestured for Elana to follow him, as they crossed the southern edge of the hall. Gefrey turned to walk down the stairs, and was met with one of the dark-clad figures. 

            The man leapt up at Gefrey, knocking him backwards towards the balcony railing. In a second, he was on top of the young lord, raising the knife he held in his hand to bring it down.

            Gefrey watched in macabre amusement as the man's expression froze and he slowly fell over. A single clean bullet hole in the side of his head gave the only indication of the cause of his death. He glanced thankfully over at his quiet wife, who was calmly lowering the gun.  

            "I love you, Elana," he said, smiling as he picked himself up off the floor.

            She smiled back at him. "I know."

            Quistis stepped out of her room, looking up and down the hallway. She could hear shouts from the floor below, and three dark clad figures were advancing down the hallway. One gave a shout as he spotted her, and the other two leveled pistols at her. 

            She dodged the first easily, but the second clipped her shoulder, knocking her backwards. She bit down on her lip to ignore the pain, and snapped Save the Queen around the first one's neck. She heard a sickening crack as his neck broke. She snapped the whip a few more times, trying to keep them on their toes as she began to mentally search her repertoire of spells. 

            _Not many, I'm afraid, she thought grimly. Finally calling on the element of fire, she held her hand out towards the figure on the right. As her chanting drew to its frantic conclusion, flames burst forth from her fingers, wrapping themselves around him._

            Apparently not caring about the imminent demise of his companion, the other drew a set of nunchaku and began advancing. He launched a series of attacks aimed at her head. She dodged as best she could, but stars exploded in her vision as one of the blows connected with her temple.

            She stumbled backwards a bit, feeling the pendant with her free hand. But instead of calling Bahamut, she felt something else stir within her. Through the pain, she forced herself to focus on the cold blue light in her breast. A tear of pain leaked out of her eyes and slid down her cheek as she fell to one knee.

            Thinking he had the best of her, the man put his nunchaku away and drew his gun again. He had lowered it to her head, preparing to pull the trigger, when she looked up at him, a dangerous red gleam in her eyes. 

            She smiled.

            Fire burst forth, blinding him, burning his face away. He tried to scream, only to find there was no breath left in him, the horrible fire burning away all the oxygen in his lungs, searing his insides. 

            Then Save the Queen silenced that pain forever. 

            Gefrey and Elana reached the bottom of the stairs and slowed, not wanting to rush into the great hall. Gingerly he opened the door, trying to get an assessment of the situation before they went in. After a few sweeping glances, he saw the hall was empty. 

_The servants probably ran out the back entrance. I hope they're all safe. He didn't see any sign of where the intruders had gone. He turned to his wife. _

"Go to the stables," he said, "get on Sabre and ride for town. Get the police, and hurry back. And be careful." He gave the petite woman a quick kiss before turning away.

"I always am," she replied with a small smile, and headed out towards the kitchens, for the covered walkway that would take her to the stables. 

Gefrey headed in the opposite direction, down the hallway that led to the library, his study, Elana's sewing room, and the treasury. As he reached the corner, he looked up and down, surveying the damage. A door was opened further down the hallway, light streaming from it, and he could hear the sounds of furniture being overturned and men cursing.

            "They're in the study!" Gefrey gasped out. _The study? Why not the treasury? Gefrey had no time to consider the whys as he stormed towards the room. _

            "Lord Gefrey," a voice gasped out behind him. "Wait…you'll need me. There are too many in there."

            He turned to see his young blonde house guest running towards him. She looked rough, with bruises marring her pretty face, and a horribly bloody wound in her shoulder. Her breathing was labored, and she looked as if she might fall over any minute. 

            "Hyne, Ms. Trepe! What happened to you?"

            "Unwelcome guests," she replied grimly. "Get behind me, sir. I'm going to make this short."

            Steeling himself, he followed the SeeD as she strode as boldly as her injuries would allow into the study. She had already begun to chant, calling for Bahamut, but stopped short as she entered the room.

            The glass in the windows had been broken out, letting the chilly autumn wind in to blow the loose papers that had been spilled to the floor. Books had been pulled from the shelves, and the painting of Lord Gefrey's grandfather had been pulled from the wall and tossed unceremoniously onto one of the chairs. Every drawer in the desk was left hanging open—including the secret one. 

            The room was empty.

            "Damn," Quistis swore. "They got away."

            "What were they after?" Gefrey asked before he stepped around her and saw the desk. "The notes!" He rushed over, rifling through the scattered papers. He looked up at Quistis, an incredulous look of disbelief on his face. "My grandfather's notes are gone!"


	8. Thunder

Quistis walked down the hallway towards the study, looking for Gefrey amidst all the people. She had been amazed at the number of townspeople that had poured into the manor house that morning, bringing all sorts of food and offering their aid with the cleanup. After all the damage had been surveyed, there were a total of nine smashed windows, several pieces of broken furniture, destroyed art pieces and overturned bookshelves. One man, the stablemaster, had been found dead in the courtyard just outside the stables. Lady Elana was busy making funeral preparations for the man, who had no family. 

            "Ms Trepe!" Gefrey stepped out of the study before she reached it, giving her a wan smile. "I trust you're feeling better this morning."

            Quistis grimaced, still acutely aware of the ache in her shoulder. She had bandaged it, and a healthy dose of curative magic had done much to repair the flesh, but it would probably throb for a few days. Silently she wished for Selphie; the spunky brunette had always had a special way with the curative magics. 

            "I'm fine, sir. I just wanted to tell you, in light of last night's attack, that I believe it imperative I continue with my mission."

            "Yes, I agree," Gefrey nodded. "What was it that you wished to speak with me about?"

            Quistis glanced around, then gestured at the doorway to the sewing room. "I'd rather not talk about it out here in the hallway, especially now."

            After they had entered the quiet, relaxing calm of the sewing room, she turned to face Gefrey squarely. "We haven't found the rod yet. But…We did find something." She took a breath. "There are the remains of a city down there."

            Gefrey's eyes widened. "A city?" 

            She nodded. "A very old city. I've never seen anything like it. We found it by accident. There was a library, and…I know how to decode your grandfather's journal."

            "You found the key, down there?"

            "Yes. It's not really a code. It's another language, the language of the people that built that city. My team agreed we would not speak about it to anyone, at first because I didn't want treasure hunters and the like swarming the place, and your village. But now…Now I fear someone else may know about it."

            "You think the attack last night was related to your discovery?"

            Quistis shrugged. "Why else would they take the notes? When they were in my room, one of them was going through my things. They were obviously looking for something. Why they didn't do it more quietly, I have no idea. But I'm going to head back up there today. We're going to focus on finding the rod, and then go back down to learn what we can about the city."

* * * *

            "He's getting worse," Selphie announced grimly as she stepped into the cockpit. Zell and Squall were already there, waiting on her. 

            "Worse?" Squall asked. "How?"

            Selphie's brow furrowed. "Well, his fever is getting really high…His skin is red all over, it looks really creepy. And he's been ranting nonstop since last night." 

            "Oh." Deciding to ponder the news at a later time, Squall looked at Zell. "You ready, Zell?"

            "Yeah." 

Squall and Selphie sat back as Zell called Shiva. In moments the Ice Queen stood before them, giving them all a sad smile.

**"It is good to see you all," she said. ****"Good to see you are still safe."**

"Does that mean you found something?" Zell asked. 

            **"Yes, I did." The cold blue elven woman made a small gesture with her left hand, and the twinkling motes of light around her swirled together and solidified, forming a chair of ice. She sat down regally, turning her shimmering, ice blue eyes on each one of them in turn before continuing. **

            **"I sought out Aurora Tervardi, the Keeper of the Library of the Enchantress. Together she and I were able to uncover some information which might help you. **

**"The beings of which you spoke match the description of the Das'an'shiorg, or more simply known as the Blood Riders. They were human once, but gave their lives to the demon lord Typhkoth, supposedly by drinking his blood. **

**"The tainted blood gave their skin a crimson hue, and bestowed upon them inhuman strength and speed. They also have the ability to tap in to the magical power of the demon's home plane, which the swords of flame you spoke of may have been the physical manifestation of."**

"That sure sounds like our boys," Zell said. "But why are they here, now?"

**"I…don't know. The last time they were seen was before the time of the Sorceress, when magic was…different. They bid a campaign to enslave the world by opening a gate to their lord's plane, allowing him complete entrance to the Prime Material Plane."******

"So they're probably planning to take over the world." Zell sighed. Why did anyone want to take over the world? It seemed like a big headache to him, and he never had quite figured it out.

**"That is a strong possibility.  Of course, they failed, pushed back by the warriors of the Ashino, a race that has long since disappeared." Squall did not miss the look of deep sorrow that briefly clouded the beautiful Guardian's face. Closing her eyes, her expression grew tight and grim. **

**"You should know that the Das'an'shiorg were supposed to be able to infect the victims of their attacks with their disease, thereby swelling their own ranks."**

The three looked at each other. 

"The survivor," Selphie finally spoke, horror in her voice. "That's what's  happening to him. The fever—the flush in his skin." The girl jumped up, heading for the doorway. 

            "Selphie, wait," Squall said, standing up. "Where are you going."

            There was just the tiniest hint of tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to stop it before the poor man becomes…" She shuddered before turning away.

            "No, Selphie." Squall turned to the Guardian. "Shiva, how long will it take for him to turn?"

            Shiva considered him for a moment. **"The records say in a day and a night. But remember, these texts were written by people with exceptionally long life spans. Centuries were as decades to them. So it may be longer."**

            "Is there a cure?"

            **"None that is known."**

            "And once he has turned? Will he seek out his fellows?"

            Shiva's brow furrowed as she considered his question. **"I don't know. Perhaps."**

Selphie turned back and took a step towards Squall. "What are you thinking?"

            Squall pressed his mouth into a thin line and looked down, his mind racing. "I…have an idea."

* * * *

"Hyne be damned."

            The four of them stood staring at the former entrance to the mines, mouths gaping. What just the day before had been a gaping cave mouth was nothing but a wall of rubble.

            "Someone must have come in the night," Nadiana finally said, "and blasted the rock above it."

            Quistis turned away, biting her lip to keep in her growl of frustration. Clenching her fists, she took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. "Bret," she bit out, "go back to town. See who you can find at the manor; I'm sure there are plenty of people standing around, waiting to help but with nothing to do. Get them back up here and get this rubble cleared away."

            "Yes, ma'am," Bret turned and headed back down the path. 

            Quistis sat down on a fallen log and pulled out her two books, the book from the city and Lord Vanderstyll's journal. "Get comfortable, guys," she said to Nadiana and Geral. "We're going to be hanging out here for a little while."

            Bret came back with several men from the village, armed with shovels and picks. He and Geral got to work, organizing and supervising their efforts as they set to removing the rubble. Nadiana disappeared into the woods, to scout and do a bit of hunting. Quistis stayed on her log, going through the books and translating what she could as the day wore on. 

            When the workers had stopped for lunch, Bret made his way over to the SeeD. "Ms. Trepe, this is goin' to probably take us the rest o' the day. Ye might want to go on back to the Vanderstylls…Eh? What's wrong?"    

            There was a very pale look on Quistis's face, and she didn't seem to notice Bret standing there. She was staring down at the two books in her lap, a pen in one hand, held frozen above the journal. Bret turned his head to the side to see what she'd been writing. 

            He recognized the first book—it was the one they'd found down in the mines. The second was written in the same gibberish, and although he hadn't seen her take any other books, he assumed she'd gotten it from the library, also. In fresh black ink, her neat, precise handwriting had written in the book, beneath the symbols, what each symbol meant. 

            This particular passage read: "Find (blank) Way to (blank) (blank) Angel Peak and (blank) Rain (blank) Roses."

            Quistis blinked, noticing Bret for the first time. She snapped the books shut. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. You're right; I'm going to head back to town." She stood up, suddenly aware at how stiff her legs and back had become from sitting for hours on the log. She put the books back in her pack and waved goodbye to the brothers before heading back down the trail. 

* * * *

            The trail was very overgrown from years of disuse, and very hard to follow. Without Nadiana along to show her the way, Quistis soon realized she had a problem.

            She was lost. 

            _Okay, Trepe, this is not a disaster, she told herself after passing a very familiar looking tree. __Familiar because I've passed it three times… She decided to stop, taking some jerky out of her pack and chewing on it while she considered her options. _

            _Hmm…I could keep walking south…I'm bound to hit the village sometime…_

_            Or I might miss it completely. It's not a very big place. _

_            I could cast a firaga or something, up into the air, like a flare. Maybe someone—like Nadiana—would see it and come find me. _

_            Or I might catch the forest on fire, and alert every monster in the area as to where I am. _

_            I could call Bahamut. Yes, that's probably the best solution. Quistis put her jerky away and closed her eyes, clasping the platinum pendant with her right hand as she chanted the words of calling, drawing the dragon's essence to her. So entranced with her spellcasting was she that Quistis failed to notice the sudden absence of sound, the forest growing silent around her._

            Before she could complete the summoning, something struck her in the chest. Her eyes flew open, a cry of pain escaping her lips as she was lifted and hurled through the air from the force of the blow.  With a sickening thud she connected solidly with a tree, and the world went black.

            She came to in a heap on the ground, dully aware of the sounds of voices shouting. She drew a breath, tears springing to her eyes as sharp pain swept through her. A tingling was spreading from her chest all over her body, and through her pain she could sense the familiar blue light burning within her, that strange force which eluded her except for when she stood near Death's door. 

Dark shapes flickered at the edge of her vision, and she could sense the presence of others surrounding her. 

"She dead?" came a low, guttural voice. 

"Not yet," another answered, and she blinked away the tears of pain as she watched a hand reach out towards her.

With a few whispered words of the cold blue magic inside her, she felt new vitality flooding her body as the ground seemed to fall away. She managed to lift herself up to a kneeling position, not surprised by the lack of solid matter beneath her, the ground a couple feet away. She could now see her attackers; men clad in dark clothing that covered everything save a small slit for their eyes, looking the same as the men who had attacked the manor house the previous night. Everything around her looked slightly distorted, as if she were looking through thick glass. 

Just in time. She saw the telltale sparks of a spell dance across the surface of the invisible wall of force, watching as one of the figures convulsed under the attack of his own spell. 

Moving with a speed that seemed inhuman, she snapped out Save the Queen, wrapping it around one man's waist and yanking him off his feet. She flung her other hand out, fingers spread, chanting furiously, the words of power bubbling up from the cold blue light within her. She saw the target of her spell crumbled to dust before their very eyes, but had no time to spare to savor the victory as she saw another flick his hands in rapid succession. 

Light glinted off the little star shaped discs as they came hurtling towards her. She managed to dodge the first two, but winced as one embedded itself in her thigh, the other striking her shoulder. 

Two advanced on her right, one starting to chant while the other pulled out a long metal staff. Around snapped Save the Queen as she attempted to rip the staff from his hands. She missed the staff, but wrapped the whip around his arm instead. A quick controlled pull on her part put him right into the path of the fire spell his companion had cast. Flames enveloped the unfortunate man, who began screaming. In his frantic waving, he bowled over the caster of the spell before slamming himself into a tree.

Another figure to her left lunged upward towards her, a blade drawn. She sidestepped his first lunge, recognizing the feint too late as he quickly changed direction and slammed into her, punching her gut with his free hand. At that moment the float spell wore off, and she fell hard to the ground. In an instant the man was on top of her, holding the blade to her throat. 

"Don't move, SeeD," he growled at her. She steeled her gaze, giving him the most penetrating glare she could, the sapphire depths promising great pain should he let her up. 

            Suddenly she saw his dark eyes widen in surprise. She felt the blade ease up from her throat, and she pushed him as hard as she could. 

_Hmm.__ Maybe looks really can kill. It was then she saw the trickle of blood oozing down the side of his head, probably a result of the dagger now protruding weirdly from the top of his skull. A scream that ended in a sick gurgle tore her eyes away from the sight, and she looked up to see the few figures that were left fleeing into the trees. Two remained, locked in deadly melee with a new combatant. _

Gabriel.

In the back of her mind, she knew she should get up and help the purple eyed warrior, but found herself entranced with the dazzling display of swordsmanship. The black-clad man on the right held two long knives, while the one on the left was using a set of nunchaku that ended in three pronged claws. They worked together in unison, sending their weapons whirling in towards Gabriel at every conceivable angle, at every possible moment. 

Metal clanging on metal rang out as Gabriel dodged and parried every blow.

His feet moved rapidly, and he almost looked as if he was dancing as he worked his sword furiously, up and down, right and left. Occasionally he would miss, the blade swinging wide and to his left, thunking into the trunk of the tree next to them. Quistis was sure the blade would be stuck in the thick bark, but he pulled it out, repeatedly, and soon she realized he wasn't missing at all.

            The two attackers were so focused on their frantic efforts to score a hit on the man that they failed to notice his deliberate efforts against the tree. The nunchaku finally found its mark, grabbing Gabriel by the thigh and knocking him down on one knee. He gave a triumphant bark.

            Too soon.

            Gabriel's left hand snaked into a small pouch on his belt. She saw the afternoon sun glint off one of the objects he pulled out, while the other seemed….fuzzy.

            _A bit of fur?__ What by Hyne is he doing?_

_            Dropping the sword, she watched him as he made a complicated gesture, speaking aloud words that reminded her of a magic chant. He pointed his finger at the tree._

            A loud boom of thunder rang in her ears as a bolt of lightning leapt from Gabriel's finger to the tree trunk, right in the place where his sword had weakened it. The two watched in stunned horror as the tree fell down on top of them. 

            Gabriel had backpedaled as soon as the thunder cracked, being just narrowly missed by the falling trunk himself. Quistis wondered if the ensuing silence was real, or if the thunder had made her go deaf. 

            He got up and dusted himself off, retrieving the broadsword from where it lay on the ground. He turned and looked at Quistis, giving her a small smile. He made his way over to where she was crumpled on the ground. She tried to get herself up, but found that with the end of the battle-induced adrenaline pumping through her body, the pain in her chest was unbearable. 

            "Stop," he said softly, gathering her in his arms. "You'll only hurt yourself more."

            She coughed, and felt a trickle of blood slither its way down her chin. _Hyne, I must be a sight._

            "Here, drink this." He was holding a small vial to her lips, and she could do little but comply, gulping down the thick liquid as best she could. Immediately she felt warmth spreading through her body, and suddenly she could breathe again. 

            He helped her to her feet, keeping an arm about her waist. She found that while she was still wobbly, the potion he'd given her had done much to heal the damage. With a grateful look she stepped away from him, gathering up Save the Queen. They stood looking at each other for several long moments.

            "Thank you," she finally broke the silence. "What were you doing out here?"

            The ebon-haired man shrugged. "Hunting. I heard shouting, and here you were. What are _you doing up here? This doesn't really look like the place to be doing research."_

            "Well, I was," she huffed, not pleased with being questioned. 

            "There are supposed to be old mines up here, with not so friendly inhabitants," he continued casually, starting to walk away. "Better be more careful."

            "Wait," she called after him, remembering that she was lost. 

            He turned his head to look back at her. "Yes?"

            "I—uh…" She sighed, seeing no way around the stark truth. "I'm lost. Can you get me back to town?" 

            He could see the mortification in her face as she was forced to ask him for help, and he couldn't help but smile a little. "Sure. But first, I want to follow these guys' trail, see where they came from."

            _Now, why didn't I think of that? "Okay, sure. But I would like to get back before dinner."_

            Gabriel laughed, a melodic sound that wrapped her in its golden warmth. "No fear, Lady Wanderer. You'll not go hungry with me."

            They made their way through the woods, Gabriel without a sound, while Quistis cringed with every step she took. The thin layer of leaves that had already fallen seemed to crunch like firecrackers underfoot. She had no idea what Gabriel was looking at that kept him on the attacker's trail. 

            Quistis gave an inward huff of frustration. _Why don't we have better wilderness training? I'm going to have to complain about it. The whole world isn't just city, after all._

            They didn't have too far to go. They broke from the trees into an open area, bordered on one side by the forest, the other side in cliffs that rose up into the sky, forming a small plateau before meeting the mountain. The ground was much rockier, strewn with many large boulders, and she could clearly see the marks in the ground where a ship had obviously been landed a short time ago. 

            "They were dropped," she concluded aloud, kneeling down to take a better look at the ruts. "Helicopter, maybe?"

            "Maybe," Gabriel walked past the marred ground, and seemed to be looking at the cliff face. The rock was covered in vines and small brush, which Gabriel began cutting away at. 

            "What are you doing?" she asked, standing and walking towards him. He didn't answer, just continued to slice away at the vegetation. 

            "I don't think…" she started to protest, but silenced as the rock beneath the vines began to take shape, becoming something other than a pillar of stone. She began to suspect she knew the shape, and as Gabriel pulled the last of the plant life away, her guess was proven correct. 

            It was a statue, a carving of an angel looking skyward, her wings stretching out across the surface of the cliff. 

            "Angel's Peak," she murmured, a quiver of anticipation running through her. 

            Gabriel turned towards her. "What?"

            "Uh..Nothing. I…what is that doing out here?"

            He shrugged. "Got me. I know there were mines up here…but carvings in the cliff?" 

            Quistis moved towards the statue, running her fingers over the carving. In her arms the angel was holding a book, and upon closer examination Quistis noticed there was a rose carved on the binding. She was so caught up in her study of the statue that she didn't notice Gabriel chanting behind her, and was taken completely by surprise when the statue began to glow.

            She whirled around, staring at him. "What are you doing?"

            He stopped, lowering his outstretched hand. "There's a door here."

            "How do you know?" she sputtered.

            He shrugged. "A spell. Creative use of a simple knock spell."

            "Knock spell?"

            He ignored her, moving up beside her and examining the statue himself. "There is a door here," he repeated, "and it is no longer locked. Now we just have to find the handle."

            She watched as he began running his hands over the rock, much as she had, except he began pressing on the carving, searching for something. Not completely sure of what she was doing, she refused to just stand there and watch, so she began pressing on the rock herself. 

            It was then she noticed one of the feathers in the angel's wing seemed to stand out, looking more distinct than the others. She laid her fingers on the feather and pushed, hearing a click as the feather depressed. 

            The sound of grinding rock roared from the statue. Gabriel grabbed her arm and pulled her back, just as the previously invisible door of stone swung open, creaking loudly. It stopped with a horrendous squeal, as if something had stopped if from opening all the way. Quistis breathed a sigh of relief when it finally quit squealing. 

            Gabriel gave her an impish grin, his amethyst eyes sparkling. "C'mon," he whispered, "let's see where it goes."

            "Wait," she began, thinking of the dull throb in her chest. _Hyne only knows what's living in there… But she found herself unable to resist his pull as he drew her into the darkness inside the statue._

            They found themselves in a short hallway carved of stone. The dying sunlight filtered through the entrance, and after waiting a few minutes for their eyes to adjust, they could see fairly well. Quistis looked at the walls, making out depictions of nature scenes and wildlife. Gabriel walked on ahead of her, to where the hallway made a sharp right turn. 

            "Oh, Hyne," she heard him breathe. She looked down the hallway at him, and saw his face pale.

            "What is it?" she hurried after him, coming to stand beside him. Her breath caught in her throat. 

The hallway opened up again to the outside, a few steps descending to the floor of the valley that spread out before them. There were stone arches and benches scattered about, and what had once been paths were overgrown with vines and small bushes. In the center of the small valley rose an old fountain, long run dry, also covered with more vines. The air was warm—unseasonably warm, more like the promise of spring than the cold warning in the autumn air. A gentle breeze wafted around them, stirring their hair. 

Everything was covered in roses.


	9. Chasing the Wind

_            She couldn't speak. _

_            She couldn't move. _

_            She couldn't breathe._

_A thousand images flooded her senses, sweeping her under in the tsunami of her memories. She saw people she knew, places she'd been, but couldn't remember any of it. Phantoms danced around her, surrounding her, sweeping through her, just beyond her conscious vision. _

_            Rose…_

_            A soft whisper echoed in her ears, the sound like a beacon, an anchor. Warm, sweet air filled her lungs. The world stopped spinning. The universe grew calm._

_            She didn't know how long she'd fallen, but it didn't matter now. She was home. She walked in the garden, letting the warm air wrap around her, comforting her. The thick layer of lush grass caressed her bare feet as she looked heavenward._

_            Rose…_

_            The sky was red, as red as the rose she held against her cheek. Comfort and sorrow filled her heart, the comfort of familiarity, the solitude of this, her secret place. The sorrow for what she had lost, for what was yet to come. _

_            Quistis…_

_            He was there. She felt him as keenly as the thorn that pricked her finger. She watched, entranced, as a single droplet of blood beaded against the creamy white of her skin. She sensed him shift towards her, his thoughts far away, changing to focus on her. They both knew this day would come, had anticipated it, had prayed for it, had feared it._

_             She wiped the tiny drop of blood on the rose's silky petals before turning to face him. At first he was just a dark shape, silhouetted against the sky. _

_            Quistis…_

_            "We are not alone, sweet rose." _

_            Platinum was dyed a ruddy red with the last embers of the star of day as the velvety darkness crept up from the west. Leathery wings stretched out, blotting out the last vestiges of twilight. _

_            "Soon, rose. Soon we will be together once more…"_

_            He turned, and in the deepening shadows she could see him…_

_            "Quistis!"_

            Finally the golden voice cut through her mind, shattering the vision into a thousand tiny motes that drifted away on the warm evening breeze. She looked up, and found herself staring into Gabriel's amethyst orbs, wide with surprise and—

            _Concern?___

_            "Where did you go?" His voice was harsh, harsher than she remembered. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that seemed to be clouding her thinking._

            "I don't know," she answered honestly, still trying to puzzle through the images that had swept over her. She then realized she had been clutching the platinum pendant that hung around her neck. 

            _What does it all mean?_

            Although he looked unsatisfied with her response, Gabriel stepped away from her, making her suddenly aware that he had been holding her by the shoulders. She couldn't keep the slight blush from staining her cheeks when she realized just how close the dark haired man had been to her. She watched as he turned his back to her and began to walk down the path towards the fountain. His steps were slow, carefully measured. 

            "I think we should get back to town," he finally said, his voice low, full of emotion. When he turned back toward her, a strange look painted his face. Confusion? Sorrow? 

            Fear?

            "Who are you?" she whispered.

            "What?"

            She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Who are you, Gabriel?"

            "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

            Her shoulders slumped. She wasn't ready for this, not yet. She still had too many questions, didn't know what direction to go. "Never mind. You're right. We should get back."

            He seemed perfectly happy to let the matter drop. Until he got next to her. 

            He reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her towards him. Her mercenary instincts cried out, demanding she snatch up Save the Queen. But other instincts also spoke, the woman battling with the warrior. 

            The woman won.

            She let him pull her in, breathing in the intoxicating smell of him. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe it was the roses. Whatever it was, she couldn't resist.

            And for once, she didn't want to.

            "You keep asking me questions, Ms. Trepe," Gabriel whispered, "and then refusing to hear the answers. I have told you who I am. I am Gabriel Andovar. I am a wanderer. I live to seek what adventure I may. A sentiment you share, I believe. So now, let me ask _you. Who are __you? I.."  He hesitated, and she could see him struggling to find the right words. "I __know you. But I don't know how. I don't know where." His eyes narrowed, nearly glowing in their intensity. _

            Her tongue was tied, her breath caught in her throat. Her whole life had been spent waiting for this moment. Standing here, in this garden of roses, like it was drawn from a fairy-tale—_drawn from my very dreams—in the arms of the most breathtakingly handsome man she'd every laid eyes on. His lips were so very close to hers…_

            She opened her mouth to speak…

            A rumble of thunder rolled over the valley.

            Gabriel looked up, noticing for the first time the black clouds that had rolled across the sky. He could see the dance of the lightning, frighteningly close. The wind had shifted, and the earthen smell of rain was heavy on the air. 

            "We need to get going," he announced, releasing her. 

            "Yes," she said, both disappointed and relieved. They headed back up the steps, down the hallway, and out through the statue of the angel. Gabriel gave the stone door a mighty push, the old slab squealing in protest. And as they walked away, Quistis just couldn't understand why she couldn't keep from crying…

            Quistis closed the door to her room and leaned against it, sighing with relief. She felt like she'd been holding her breath the whole way to the manor house. Stripping the outer layer of her clothing, she dug out her pajamas, prepared to shower and then go to bed. She sighed softly as she looked at the plain, utilitarian garments, sitting down slowly on the edge of the bed. 

            Her whole life had always been about control. When they were children at Matron's orphanage, she had been the boss, the one in charge. When she'd gone to Garden, it had always been do your work, train hard, day after day. She'd become a SeeD by the age of fifteen. Fifteen! Fifteen year old girls should be experimenting with makeup, trying on clothes, giggling over the latest pop idol, not learning battle techniques and slaying monsters. Still, she'd never minded missing out on her youth. She didn't have time for silliness. Becoming an instructor had been part of the natural progression of things.

            Losing her license had not.

            That day, the SeeD graduation ball when chirpy little Rinoa Heartilly had entered their lives was one of Quistis's defining moments. If she hadn't lost her license, she would have never been a part of the story that began to unfold that day. Perhaps that was why she'd never been terribly bitter over the loss. Fate had a funny way of lining things up just right.

            _Is that why Cid sent me __here, instead of someone else?_

            The thought was disturbing, and shook the cool, controlled woman more than a little. She wanted—no, she _needed—to believe that fate wasn't real, that each person was able to choose their own path. After all, if her course in life was already laid out, why bother living?_

            No. Maybe fate set the stage, but she refused to believe that her actions, her thoughts, her feelings were insignificant in the course of her personal journey. Maybe it was fate that brought her here, maybe she was meant to go looking for the Finder's Way, maybe she was meant to meet Gabriel, but only she would decide where she went from there. 

            She couldn't deny the attraction she was beginning to feel for the purple eyed warrior, and that scared her, too. Only once before had she ever let herself breathe long enough to fall for someone, and that had blown up in her face. 

            Squall…

            A small, bitter smile crept across her face as she thought of him. Oh, sure, she had gotten over him—she was even happy for him for the joy he'd found in Rinoa. But the ache from being rejected at all remained. It had shaken her self-esteem to the core. She had strived her whole life for perfection, but that wasn't enough for her dark and silent commander. It made her begin to doubt everything about her life, especially when the rejection had come on the heels of losing her instructor's license. 

            What if she let herself fall for Gabriel? He freely admitted he was a wanderer, an adventure seeker. She, on the other hand, had always demanded order and control. It just wouldn't work. 

            Would it?

            Besides, she didn't know how he felt. He had seemed interested, but she wasn't so sure if she trusted her judgement where Gabriel was concerned. 

            And what about all these dreams and visions?

            Suddenly there was a knock on the door, causing Quistis to jump. 

            "Ms. Trepe?" She heard Benton's voice through the door. She got up and padded quietly to the door, cracking it open

            "Yes?" 

            "I've a message for you, ma'am. The mines are clear, and your team will be ready to go down again in the morning."

            She smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Benton."

            "Will you be taking dinner this evening, ma'am?"

            "Um…yes. Do you think someone could bring a plate up for me? I'll be in the shower…"

            "Of course, my lady. Good evening."

            "Good night, Benton." 

            She sighed heavily, closing the door and heading for the bathroom. A shower, supper, and a good night's sleep would clear her head. Tomorrow she'd be down in the mines. They'd find the rod, and then she would deal with these other problems.

            "Oh, and Quistis called for you," Rinoa added.

            Squall blinked. "Quistis called?  What did she want?"

            "To make sure everybody's alive and the world's still safe." Rinoa giggled, but then her tone grew serious. "You know, we've got some really great friends."

            "Yeah," he answered. "They are great…" There was a moment of silence as Squall wrestled with himself. Quistis's last words to him had been with him every step of this mission, and he'd had a lot to think about. Finally, he made a decision.

            "Rinoa," he said slowly. "I…I love you."

            There was silence on the other end, and at first Squall thought he'd done something wrong. Then, her voice echoed in his ears, husky and full of emotion. 

            "Really, Squall?"

            He wasn't sure if that was quite what he'd wanted to hear. "Yes. Really. I want you to know that." He was struggling to find a way to express his feelings; he'd never been very good at it. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I—We're mercenaries, Rin. Any day could be the last day. Every time we say goodbye, I might never see you again. So I wanted you to know, no matter what, I love you."

            "Oh. Wow." She laughed a little, a slight tremor in her voice. "I love you too, Squall," she whispered. 

            An uncontrollable smile spread across his face. "Thanks."

            Giggle. "You're welcome, sweetie." She sighed. "As much as I'd love to continue talking to you…"

            "You have to go. That's fine. Hey, you have the number to Quistis?"

            "Yeah, sure."    She gave it to him, while he committed the number to memory. 

            "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Rin. I…love you."

            "It'll get easier every time you say it, babe. I love you." There was a quiet click as she hung up. 

            For a moment, Squall felt hollow listening to the silence on the telephone. Then he looked up, and saw that Selphie had entered the room. She was looking at him, a strange expression on her pretty face.

            "Um…The surveillance is in place. When he moves, we'll be ready."

            "Good."

            They stood there in an awkward silence for a minute or two. 

            "Hey, Squall…I didn't mean to listen in."

            "I know."

            "Okay."

            "Hey, Selphie?"

            "Yeah?"

            He reached his hand out to her, gesturing her to come closer. When she stepped forward, she gave a surprised yelp as he pulled her in, hugging her close. 

            "Whoa," she said quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "What's this all about?"

            "I just want you to know…I care about all you guys." He looked down at her, a genuine smile lighting his eyes. "You guys are my family."

            Selphie felt little tears at the corner of her eyes. "Oh, Squall. Are you okay?"

            Squall chuckled. "Am I really that cold?"

            "Well…yeah…"

            "Whoops!" they heard Zell exclaim from the doorway. The spikey haired blonde gave them an embarrassed and slightly accusatory look, starting to backpedal. "I didn't know I'd be interrupting anything…"

            "No, Zell, wait," Squall called. "Come here, man."

            Zell raised his eyebrow, approaching slowly. The other eyebrow shot up to join the first when Selphie and Squall pulled him into their hug. 

            "Um," Zell said nervously, "just get it over with. Who died?"

            Selphie laughed, pulling away to punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Nobody died, silly." Then she looked at Squall. "Or maybe somebody did."

            "Yeah," Squall replied sofltly. "Maybe the old Squall did. Finally."

            "Huh?" Zell asked, looking confused. The other two SeeDs laughed at him. 

            "Don't worry about it, honey," Selphie said, hugging him again. "We love you anyway."

            Gabriel sighed softly as the steaming water pelted against his skin, allowing some of the tension to ease out of his muscles. He'd felt taunt, like a rubber band stretched too far, since the moment he'd stepped into the garden. He turned his head towards the showerhead, letting the water strike him full in the face before running down his body in tiny rivulets. An image of a certain blonde SeeD came to mind…

            His eyes flew open. He reached down and turned the water off, sliding the door back from the stall and stepping onto the cold bathroom floor. He grabbed a towel off the hook on the wall, wiping away the excess water before wrapping it around his waist. Running a comb through his ebon mane, he tied it back before opening the door and walking across the floor of his room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to the chair that sat in the corner. 

            "Oh, my," a smooth, silky voice purred, "were you getting ready for me, Gabriel?"

            "Ana," Gabriel growled, not bothering to look, "don't you ever knock?"

            She chuckled softly, lounging back in the chair. "How are things, dear?"

            "Fine. I'm great."

            "You know what I mean."

            He sighed, standing and walking to the bureau. He pulled out a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. "Things are progressing," he replied, tossing the clothing on the bed. 

            "Have you gained her trust yet?"

            She saw his back tense. "Almost. She's a careful one."

            "I expected no less from a SeeD, which is why I called you in, Gabriel. You _are the best."_

            He turned to face her, an angry glint in his eyes. "Then why are you here? If I'm the best, I don't need checking up on."

            Ana chuckled, drumming her fingers against the arm of the chair. "Oh, you know I just like to visit you, my dear." She watched with pleasure as an involuntary shudder ran through him. She leaned forward, her expression suddenly intense. "Other matters are progressing more quickly than we expected. The rod must be found, and soon. Have you located the portal yet?"

            "No. I don't even know where to begin to look. The notes your boys snatched talked only about the rod."

            "I see." She paused, her mouth pursed. "It must be found, and quickly. Don't forget what I'm paying you for."

            He stiffened. "I won't. Within a few days, the SeeD will belong to me, and with her, the rod. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I'd like to get dressed." 

            Ana rose gracefully, strolling over to him. She ran her finger down his chest, feeling his tension. "Ah, poor Gabriel," she murmured, reaching up to touch his hair, the black strands contrasting starkly with the crimson hue of her skin. "Soon, you will understand the depth of the power I seek."

            "It doesn't matter to me," he replied huskily. "Just pay me and let me be."

            For a moment, he could have sworn a look of regret crossed the woman's face. It was gone in a heartbeat, however, as she stepped back, melting away into the shadows.

Author's Note: I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far, but I would especially like to thank Bippo and Jello Ink. I had been having a really terrible day when I read those two reviews, and they made me smile when nothing else had. Thank you so much. 


	10. Downpour

"Good morning, Ms. Trepe," Bret smiled up at her from his seat by the campfire, holding out a plate. "Breakfast?"

            Quistis took the plate from him, looking around. "Thank you. What did you guys do, camp out?"

            "Yup," Bret responded, gesturing towards the gaping mine entrance. "Didn't want to havta clear that out again." 

            Quistis smiled and nodded, digging in to the eggs. Nadiana appeared from the woods as they finished, and the three set about breaking camp. Quistis watched as they went about methodically, each seeming to know exactly what their role was without a word ever passing between them. Within minutes, the area was clear, leaving no trace of their stay save the pile of dirt that had been the fire pit. 

            "Have you three worked together before?" Quistis asked Bret as they walked in to the mine entrance. 

            "Well, we all went to school together. When we were kids, we went campin' all the time. We had a few adventures, y'know, the crazy stuff kids do. This is the first chance we've had to go on a….well, a real adventure."

            "Ah," Quistis said quietly as they lit their lanterns. They knew the way a bit better this time, and made better time. Within an hour they reached the site of the cave-in. They all exchanged longing glances with each other and the dark alcove that led to the chute. With a reluctant sigh, they continued on.

            Quistis used the map to keep track of their location, for now they were in uncertain territory. Gefrey had been confident the rod lay beyond the cave-in, but that was all. 

            The blonde SeeD nearly stumbled in to Geral when the man stopped abruptly in front of her. She was about to ask what the problem was, when she saw he was studying the wall of the shaft. He let out a long, low whistle as she moved to see what he was looking at. 

            Along the wall, Quistis could make out a band of silver, wider than her arm, meandering its way down the tunnel. 

            "Silver," Geral said with wonder. "Pure as moonlight."

            "The stories're true," Bret murmured beside his brother. "Little wonder Lord Gefrey wants to get the mine open again." The two men took a long, last glance at the vein of silver before continuing down the tunnel.

            They reached a crossroads, faint tracks gleaming in their lamplight running along the new passage. Quistis looked around, shining a flashlight down each of the corridors. Marking her decision on the map, they continued on to the left, down the new passage. 

            As they walked along the tracks, Quistis felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She glanced at her companions, seeing equally concerned expressions of their faces. 

            "We're bein' watched," Geral finally spoke.

            "You see something?" Quistis asked.

            "Naw….But I feel it."

            "I feel it, also," Nadiana fell back from her point position to speak with them. "The air here is oppressive…as if the shadows themselves were watching us." The two brothers nodded in agreement. 

            "Be ready," Quistis said simply, pulling Save the Queen from its resting place while silently going over her spells. Bret and Geral drew their axes, while Nadiana nocked her bow. 

            So it was that they were not taken completely by surprise when the shadows exploded into action around them.

            With a blow born more of instinct than precision, Bret swung his axe hard into the form nearest him, and was rewarded with the sound of bones crunching. Holding his lantern up, he looked down to see what had crumpled so easily, and saw bones.

            Human bones.

            More than a dozen skeletons trudged out of a side passage the four had not noticed, their claw like hands outstretched.  Tiny red points of light glared angrily from their empty eye sockets, and tattered remains of cloth—flesh?—hung from their bones. A few held rusted weapons, but most were swiping at them with their bony claws.

            A single glance at her target told Nadiana immediately that her bow would be of little use against these adversaries. Putting the bow away, she jumped right in to the fray, whirling and kicking.

            Considering her spells, Quistis decided that these skeletons seemed to be falling easily enough with simple brute force, so she settled on a spell to augment her speed. With magic coursing through her veins, she went into a blur of motion, snapping Save the Queen around exposed spinal cords and ribs, flinging the hapless creatures against stone walls and each other. 

            Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another skeleton step into the corridor and stop, seeming to observe the melee. Its red eyes flared, and Quistis gasped as a beam of ruby light flashed across the tunnel, leaving a smoking hole in the rock where Nadiana had been a moment before.

            The flustered ranger looked up from where she'd rolled, instinct controlling her flight more than strategy. 

            _Time to end this, Quistis decided. __Skeletons are one thing, but skeletons with disintegrating eye gazes are another._

_            "Get out of the way!" she cried, waving at Nadiana as she clasped the platinum pendant. She began her chant while the pale woman scrambled back to join Bret and Geral. Within moments misty clouds began to fill the passageway as Bahamut made his entrance. The platinum dragon wasted no moments, drawing in a great breath to release his powerful beam of silver fire, obliterating most of the skeletons, crushing the rest. _

            Quistis could almost see him wink at her before he faded away again. 

            As silence fell in the corridor, Quistis felt three pairs of eyes staring at her. She turned to her team, a sheepish smile on her face. "What?"

            "What the hell was that?" Bret finally asked with wonder in his voice.

            "A Guardian," Nadiana answered for her. "So it is true. You must be from Balamb Garden."

            "I am," Quistis answered carefully. 

            "But what about your memory?" the ranger asked. "Or is that untrue, merely propaganda?"

            Quistis sighed. The Guardians were extra planar beings who sometimes "adopted" inhabitants of the material plane, lending their combative skills. They demanded a price, however, in the form of human experience. A price many warriors had found too high. 

            _They've already taken my childhood, she thought sadly. __What will be next, I wonder? She shook her head a little. This was an ongoing debate she held with herself, but here was not the time or place. _

            "I keep a journal," she answered simply. "The memories don't disappear, just get harder to find. Now, we should be moving on." She gestured at the side passage the skeletons had come from. "This way." 

            The four held themselves at the ready as they walked on. Occasionally a scuttling sound would echo down the tunnels and make them jump, particularly as they passed other side passages, but nothing more approached them. Quistis kept them on a straight path, ignoring any other routes that opened up. The walls of this passage were not cut, like the previous mines, but looked to be natural caves. 

            They were not marked on her map.

            Nadiana ran ahead, but was back within a few minutes, her brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Quistis asked.

"Dim the lights," she responded quietly.

            The three complied, and as their eyes adjusted to the darkened tunnel, they detected what Nadiana had.

            Up ahead, a dim red glow lit the corridor.

            "What's up there?" Quistis demanded, keeping her voice low and just about the harshness of a whisper.

            "I don't know yet," Nadiana replied. "I came back to confirm my guess at the light. I'll go look now."

            "Be careful," Quistis said, but was talking to empty air. Nadiana was already gone. 

            They waited a few minutes, when Quistis gestured for the brothers to follow as she started ahead slowly. She nearly gasped when Nadiana suddenly appeared out of the darkness. Quistis saw the woman's pale eyes were wide, her mouth set in a grim line.

            "I found it," she said simply.

            "Found what?" 

            "The Finder's Way."

            Quistis swore under her breath as she looked down from the ledge out over the cavern. "There it is," she whispered to herself. "But, Hyne, how the hell are we gonna get it out of there?"

            A slender silver rod, topped with a sparkling sapphire, lay atop a pile of rubble on the cavern floor, some thirty feet below them. Also laying with the rod were weapons; a few swords, an axe, and what appeared to be a longbow. All around it, the floor was teeming with activity.

            Shambling figures walked back and forth across the cavern, pushing carts filled with gleaming silver ore towards a lift contraption near the center. Workers with pickaxes beat against the walls of the cavern in various places, while other groups were making their way in from side tunnels. Here and there were holes in the cavern floor from which steam escaped, sometimes in sudden bursts that would catch workers unaware. More ledges similar to the one they stood upon could be seen at various intervals and heights. The luminous moss the team had seen growing in the underground city grew here, as well. Here in this cavern, however, the light it cast was eerie rather than surreal. 

            "What are people doin' down here?" Bret asked as loudly as he dared, although with all the noise of picks hitting rock, carts rumbling along, and the escaping steam, Quistis doubted they would be heard. 

            Nadiana was squinting, looking intently at the workers. Slowly, her eyes widened and her mouth twisted in disgust. "They're dead."

            "What?" Upon closer examination, the others found the ranger to be correct. Many of the shambling figures had gaping wounds that no longer bled. Some were missing body parts. Others the flesh hung loosely off exposed bones, while still others were no more than skeletons. 

            "Well, Ms. Trepe," Bret sighed. "It's yer game. What are we gonna do?"

            Quistis stared at the cavern floor, her mind racing. There was no way the four of them could fight _all of those creatures down there and survive, not even with Bahamut's aide, especially if these had that disintegrating attack the one in the corridor had. There had to be another way…_

            Her eyes fell on another ledge. The rod lay roughly in the center between it and the ledge they stood on. 

            "Do we have any rope?" she asked, turning to Geral.

            "Yeah….Two coils, fifty feet apiece."

"Good. I….have an idea."

            Quistis waited patiently on the ledge, keeping an eye on the activity below as she waited for the signal that the other three had found their way to the ledge. She'd sent them back along the side passages, hoping they would take the team to the other ledges. 

            A tiny flash of light grabbed her attention. There was Nadiana, shining her flashlight across the cavern. 

            Quistis flashed hers quickly to let them know she'd seen them. She cringed as Bret dropped their rope, watching the creatures below to see if they'd been detected yet. Thankfully, the skeletons that had been nearby trudged on, apparently oblivious. 

            She held her breath as Bret began to slide down the rope, Geral right behind him. Everything was going well so far. As Bret touched the floor of the cavern, Quistis stood and began to chant. 

            She heard the commotion begin as the two brothers yelled, tearing into the unsuspecting ranks of undead with their axes. Nadiana began to rain arrows down, more for effect than for damage, drawing the horde's attention to them. 

            _Perfect timing, she thought, just as the float spell completed. She saw the telltale dance of light swirl around the rod as it lifted just slightly from the pile. She began to chant again._

            Bret's axe caught in the rib cage of one shambling monster as he swung. He pulled a little, but it was stuck. With a mighty heave, he flung the creature up into the air.

"Look out!" he called to his brother. 

            Geral looked up, watching the skeleton flying towards him. With a grin he twisted the handle of the axe in his hands, holding it like a baseball bat. As the creature came within range, he took a might swing, and was satisfied with a solid connection. The bony projectile went bowling into two others, knocking them off their feet. 

            Bret looked back at his brother, a mischievous smile across his face. "That looked like fun, man. More?"

            "Ye're on!"

            Nadiana smiled at the brother's antics, but kept an eye on their leader. The blonde SeeD was chanting again, Nadiana watching as a tiny wisp of wind left Quistis's hand and whirled its way towards the rod. The toned-down aero spell pushed against the floating rod, drawing it towards Quistis. Something else had been caught by the float aura….the longbow, from the looks of it. 

            The longbow reached Quistis first. Raising an eyebrow, she grabbed it anyway, and was reaching out to grasp the rod. Below her, one of the skeletons finally noticed the floating rod, and leapt up to grasp it.

            Quistis was ready. Out snapped Save the Queen, wrapping its gleaming end firmly around the rod. She couldn't contain the satisfied smirk she gave the rotting creature as her hand closed around the cool metal rod, although she was quite certain the dead thing was well beyond noticing facial expression. 

            "Run!" she cried to Nadiana and the brothers before beginning the summoning. As misty clouds filled the cavern, she saw Bret and Geral running back towards the rope, plowing through the skeletons and dodge a few ruby beams. 

Bahamut gave a great roar as the platinum dragon made his entrance. Immediately the undead horde's attention was drawn to the Guardian hovering in their midst, exactly as Quistis had hoped. Scooping up the bow, with the rod pressed against her chest, she fled the ledge, running on down the corridor. 

            **_I'll hold as long as I can withstand it, Bahamut whispered in her mind. _**

            **_Thank you, she replied as she turned a corner and entered the corridor with the tracks. Here she was supposed to meet Nadiana, Bret, and Geral. Soon the three appeared, and at her direction, they continued their flight out of the mines. _**

            Bret dropped down on the dirt outside the cave entrance, breathing heavily. He was used to heavy work, but not running. He couldn't help but grin at the others as they, too, sat down, gasping for breath. 

            "We could do this."

            Nadiana looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "Do what?"

            "This," he gestured at the rod and the mine entrance. Quistis gave him a puzzled smile. "Y'know, runnin' around in caves, findin' stuff, fightin' skeletons."

            Quistis laughed, then sighed. "I already do all that…."

            "Yeah," Bret nodded, "but who decides what you're lookin' for?"         

            "The client."

            "Exactly."

            Quistis opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Bret had a point…

            She shrugged it off. It wasn't an issue at the moment. She looked up at the dark sky. "It's dark."

            "Yeah."

            "Skeletons."

            "Oh, yeah…" 

            They looked at each other. Then began the run back down to the Vanderstyll Manor. 


	11. Game

Author's note: Okay, everybody….I'm really uncertain about this chapter…So feedback would be really helpful. Honest, constructive criticism…PLEASE? J I'm not used to writing this intimacy stuff….

Quistis lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Lord Gefrey had been ecstatic when she'd presented the Finder's Way to him, and Lady Elana had already begun to plan the second Harvest Ball around celebrating the return of the rod. Nadiana, Bret, and Geral had been invited to dinner, but the entire team, Quistis included, had been too worn out from their flight, and had chosen instead to retire for the evening. Now, however, after she had showered, undressed, and slipped into bed, she found she couldn't sleep. 

            True, the rod had been found….Did that mean it was time to return to Garden? She wanted to explore the city they'd found, but the horde of undead creatures posed an additional problem. Then again, maybe Lord Gefrey would be interested in hiring her to clear them out. She also had vacation time coming. She wouldn't really mind spending it with the team down in the mines. She was growing found of the three; they'd followed her orders unquestioningly, and that had given her confidence to make clear decisions. Not to mention the fact that the mission had gone relatively smoothly. For the first time in a long time, she felt competent again. 

            And then there was Gabriel. 

            "I give up," she said aloud to the darkness of the room. She sighed, sitting up and swinging her feet over the side of the bed.  Perhaps a walk would clear her head. She dressed quickly in a green sweater and worn jeans, grabbing Save the Queen and hooking it on a belt loop, just in case. 

            She passed Benton in the front hall, and stopped to let him know she'd be out for a walk. The elderly man raised an eyebrow at her.

            "Are you certain that is safe, my lady?"

            Quistis smiled at him, patting Save the Queen. "I can take care of myself, Benton. Good evening."

            "Yes, ma'am."

            Squall picked up the telephone, carefully dialing the number Rinoa had given him. He stared at the control panel of the ship, idly running his finger over the buttons as the phone rang. Finally, after five rings, someone picked up.

            "Vanderstyll Manor, Devvery speaking, how may I help you?"  

            "Yes, this is Commander Squall Leonhart from Balamb Garden. I would like to speak with Ms. Quistis Trepe, if you could connect me, please."

            "Hold one moment, sir." There was a long pause, and then another man's voice, this one much older, came back on the line.

            "I'm sorry, Commander Leonhart, Ms. Trepe has stepped out for a walk. Would you like to leave a message for her?"

            "Uh….Yeah," Squall had not expected her to be out at this time of night. _Of course, it could be different wherever she is. I don't recognize the area code. "Please let her know her commander called to check on her progress, and would like her to report in to the Ragnarok as soon as possible, no matter what time it is."_

            "Very well, sir. Have a good evening."

            "Goodbye." He hung the phone up and stared at it for a few moments, feeling disappointed. He looked up as Selphie came in to the room. He could tell immediately that something was up. He gave her a quizzical look.

            "He's on the move," she announced. 

            Instantly Squall was on his feet, grabbing his gunblade out of its case on the floor next to him. _Finally, some action, he thought as he led Selphie off the Ragnarok. _

            Quistis closed her eyes, savoring the feel of the warm breeze in her face. She wasn't sure how or why, but she'd found her feet leading her up the trail and to the statue of the angel, and now she was standing in the rose garden. 

            She walked up and down the over grown trails, looking at the roses with wonder-filled eyes. _I always thought roses needed a lot of pruning and attention. Yet these are flourishing, here where no one has been for a long, long time. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she felt that this place had been empty for years, centuries maybe. She stopped to look at one particular vine that climbed its way up a crumbling stone archway. __Strange, that this place looks so much like the garden in my dreams. _

_            It is the same._

_            Quistis blinked. It was easy to think fanciful thoughts in this mysterious place, she told herself. She sighed, reaching out to touch one of the heavy crimson blooms. _

            "It is beautiful, isn't it."

            She froze, a shiver running up her spine at the sound of that voice. She turned slowly to look at him, standing near the steps that led back out to the angel. She wondered how long he'd stood there, watching her, before he said anything. 

            Gabriel walked towards her slowly, studying her. A gibbous moon hung in the sky, filling the garden with a soft, silver light, reflected in the ebony strands of his hair. He was dressed in plain grey clothing, with a black cloak slung about his shoulders. His sword hung at his side, and a silver chain glinted just above the neckline of his shirt. He made no sound as he moved, not even his scabbard daring to clink with his stride. 

            _He looks like something out of a dream, she thought, holding her breath as he drew near. He stopped beside her, looking past her at the roses. _

            "What are you doing here this time of night?" he asked softly. 

            "I could ask you the same thing," she replied, thanking Hyne her voice did not tremble. He chuckled, and nodded. 

            "Perhaps our reasons are the same." She felt his breath tickle her ear as he moved past her, walking down the path towards the cliff face that lay opposite the entrance. She followed, puzzled, until she realized what had drawn him in that direction. 

            There, in the rock, was an archway that led into the mountain, covered in swirling designs that matched the artwork from the city. 

            "Wow," she whispered. "Where do you suppose it leads?"

            "I don't know. Let's find out." Without waiting for her response, he drew his sword and walked in. 

            "Wait," she said quietly, but she was talking to empty air. Sighing, she wrapped her hand around the handle of Save the Queen and followed him.

            It proved to be a short walk. The corridor led into a small cave, mist and the crystalline music of running water filling the air. A pool of clear blue water gathered in the center of the cave before draining away through some unseen stream. On the other side of the pool, smooth, rounded steps led up to a dais, where an oval structure stood, carved of some kind of black and silver stone. It was decorated with more of the swirling knot work, with a hole in the left side.

            Like a keyhole.

            Quistis felt as much as heard Gabriel's gasp at the sight. She moved up beside him, giving him an inquisitive look. 

            "What is it?" she asked.

            "There's only one thing it could be," he answered in a voice full of awe. A long moment of silence passed, and Quistis shifted uncomfortably. Gabriel turned to look at her, apparently sensing her impatience. 

            "Local legend tells of a healing portal that existed once, a long time ago, before the time of the Sorceress. It was said that once the key was in place, any who passed through the portal would be healed of all ailments, all disease, all imperfection."

            "And you think this is it?" 

            "It has to be." He looked back at the portal. "You have no idea the importance of this discovery! However…."

            She saw his brow furrow, his eyes narrowing. "Yes?" she prompted.

            "If word gets out….Starvale will be swamped with all kinds of people from the outside, trying to get to the portal. Trying to own the portal."

            "But, if what you say is true, it could help a lot of people."

            He turned towards her, his eyes intense. "Yes….But how many lives would it destroy? Regardless, it is useless without the key. We should at least talk it over with Gefrey. This is his land, after all."

            Quistis stared up at him for a long moment, considering his words. His arguments were very similar to her own in regards to the underground city. She knew he had a point. _It seems Starvale has a lot of secrets. She nodded slowly. _

            "You're right. We'll talk to Lord Gefrey about it. In the morning."

            As they turned to walk away, Quistis noticed some words carved into the archway. She didn't say anything, but committed the symbols to memory before exiting the small cavern. 

            Quistis breathed deeply as they reentered the garden, savoring the scent of roses drifting on the air. She followed Gabriel to a stone bench, tentatively taking a seat next to him as he leaned back, looking up at the stars. 

            "So, why _did you come out here?" she asked, wanting to break the silence._

            He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Needed to think. This place seemed safe….I just sort of found myself walking here before I knew it." He looked over at her. She pretended to be studying the constellations, when in fact she was acutely aware of his eyes on her. "Where are you from, Ms. Trepe?"

            "Balamb," she answered without thinking about it. 

            "Balamb Garden?" he asked. 

            "Well….Yes." She felt as if he could look right through her; no point in trying to cover anything up.

            "Must be fun." 

            "Loads."

            A long silence ensued. This time, Gabriel broke it. "So…are you married? Attached? Boyfriend?"

            "No," she responded, a little too quickly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "I'm too busy for that."

            "Really." He didn't sound as if he believed her. She just continued to stare up at the sky. He leaned over, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. "That's too bad. You're beautiful."

            She chuckled nervously. _Hyne! I'm a grown woman, not a child! Pull yourself together, Trepe!  "Thank you," she said wryly, turning to look at him. She gasped when she found his face to be much closer than she'd thought. He smiled, a kind, gentle smile that lit his eyes with a warm purple glow. She found herself caught in those amethyst depths, drawn into their warmth. Suddenly she felt hot, her sweater entirely too heavy for the comfortable garden air. She could barely keep from trembling as he reached out and touched her cheek, drawing a line slowly down her face, along her jaw line and back to her ear before cupping the side of her head with his hand. He leaned in towards her, and she thought her heart might leap right out of her chest as his lips touched hers softly. _

            Her world began to spin as the kiss deepened, part of her mind crying out that this couldn't be real, she must be dreaming, while the other part of her sang out in ecstasy. His warmth enveloped her as he drew her in. She tangled her fingers in his ebon mane, relishing the feel of the silky strands, feeling her own golden hair fall down around her shoulders as he unclasped the clip that held it in place.

            She whimpered a little when his mouth left hers, but silenced when he began to rain little kisses down her neck, gently sliding one arm beneath her knees while the other supported her back. He stood slowly, lifting her from the bench and took a few steps before lowering her down on the grass between two rose bushes. She didn't resist, only clung to his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again. 

            She began to slowly undo the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to feel his skin, to feel the beating of his heart beneath his chest. No one in her whole life had ever touched her like this, and she was feeling things she'd never imagined before. The whole world fell away, and there was only them in the garden of roses. 

            He slid his hand gently up her sweater, his fingers dancing in deft circles on her skin that sent sensations racing through her nerves. She shifted so he could pull the sweater up and over her head, tossing it the side. She closed her eyes with pleasure as their skin touched, his as smooth as silk, a steady thump against her chest as she realized his heart was beating as fast as hers. 

            _She felt as if her body was on fire everywhere that his skin caressed hers. She laughed playfully as she rolled over, teasing him with her eyes. A little growl escaped his lips as he chased her, finally pinning her down against the grass. _

_            "Not so fast, my little rose," he whispered, nibbling on her ear. His touch sent electric sensations dancing across her skin. As his kissing became more insistent, she lost touch with her own body, no longer certain as to where she ended and he began. The feel of him moved through her veins like molten lava, setting her heart aflame._

            "Gabriel," she whispered softly, opening her eyes to stare into his. She gasped, entranced by the amazing swirl of emotions she saw churning in their violet depths. Passion, desire, confusion, fear. 

            Regret?

            He blinked, then pulled away from her, standing up. She bit her lip to hold back tears, sensing the moment was over.

            "I'm sorry," he said quietly, handing her sweater to her. "I….I got carried away."

            "That's okay," she whispered, looking down as she stood, putting her sweater back on. She gasped as he reached out and grabbed her, drawing her into his embrace.

            "That's not what I meant, exactly," he smiled gently at her. "I don't think we know each other that well…..Will you….would you have dinner with me, tomorrow?"

            "I…" Quistis stammered, taken by surprise. "Yes. Yes, I'd love to." She grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Walk me back to the manor house?"

            "Sure," he responded, taking her arm. 

            Quistis couldn't contain a cheery little whistle as she walked into the manor house. Gabriel had kissed her goodnight, a simple, light kiss, but her lips still tingled at the feeling. She felt like she was walking on air, her heart lifted like she'd never felt it before. 

            She was quite surprised to see Benton enter the hall from the servant's quarters. Considering the late hour, she'd expected everyone to be asleep. She waved at him, unable to tame the smile that spread across her face. 

            "I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked.

            "No, ma'am. I was waiting for you to return so that I could pass on a message."

            "Oh….Message?"

            "Yes, ma'am. Your commander called, wishing you to contact him immediately on the Ragnarok, I believe he said."

            Quistis's heart sank. _They're not calling me back already, are they? Why would Squall call, and not Cid? "Thank you, Benton, I'll return his call from my room. Good night."_

            "Good night, ma'am."

            Despite her worry over what Squall could want with her, she couldn't keep from fairly dancing her way up the stairs to her room. _No wonder Rinoa is so silly, she thought, sitting down on the edge of the bed and picking up the phone. __As many times as she's been in love._

_            Love? What are you thinking, Trepe? You barely know this guy!_

_            But I do know him..._

            She shook her head. She'd worry about the complications of the matter later. For now she just had to do what she could to stay in Starvale a little while longer. She tapped her foot impatiently while the phone rang. And rang. And rang. 

            Finally, the answering machine picked up. "You have contacted Vessel F-0113, Ragnarok. To leave a voice message, press one."

            Breathing a little sigh of relief, Quistis pressed one and waited for the tone.

            Gabriel slammed the door behind him, throwing his cloak on the chair before stalking into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he splashed cold water in his face. He looked up at his image in the mirror, intense purple eyes staring back at him. He thought of another pair of eyes, brilliant blue orbs looking up at him from behind blonde locks…

            "Damn that woman!" he growled, slamming his fist into the mirror. Glass shattered, shards flying everywhere. He stared dully at his hand, barely feeling the pain through his anger.

            _Just who are you angry at, Gabriel?_

_            "Shut up!" he cried aloud, putting his bleeding fist into the running water. No one played the game of seduction better than him. That was why Ana had hired him, after all. He had won battles long before the first blow could be struck, by twisting this foolish emotion called "love" and using it as a weapon. Love was a weapon! Ironically enough, it had been Ana who had taught him that, long ago. _

            And in the game of seduction, an unforgiving play of lies and deceit, there was only one rule. This one rule had to be followed; failure to do so would always spell destruction. But as he stared at the remains of the mirror, he could not deny the truth to himself. He had broken that single, golden rule.

            He was falling in love.


	12. Torrent

             "Okay, Commander," Selphie whispered harshly as she climbed down from her vantage point on the ridge. "Now what do we do?"

            They had followed the survivor's erratic trail through most of the night. Now, however, it seemed their labor had paid off, as the man made contact with others. From the distance, Selphie confirmed that the new group of people had crimson skin. 

            Squall didn't answer Selphie right away as he considered their choices. They had been hired to discover the perpetrators, not necessarily punish them. However, he wasn't sure if he wanted to subject regular Esthar soldiers or police officers to the dangers the three SeeDs knew the creatures presented. Also, the ones below them could be merely an advance group or a scouting party. If they attacked, then the rest of the creatures might then become aware of their presence and take away the little advantage the SeeDs might have had in the battle.

            His internal debate became a moot point a moment later, as he felt the cold tip of a blade press against his back between his shoulder blades.

            "Do not move," an eerie voice whispered harshly, reminding Squall somewhat of a snake hissing. 

            "Well, I guess that ends that debate," Zell said to him matter of factly, as if he'd known exactly what Squall had been thinking. With a small shrug, the blonde martial artist leaped at the figure standing behind Squall, just as the commander rolled forward to keep from getting skewered. 

            Zell pounded into the man in a flurry of fists and feet. Selphie clapped her hands in glee before removing an oval object from the pack she'd been carrying. 

            "What is that?" Squall dared to ask as he got his gunblade ready. 

            Selphie giggled, pulling the pin and tossing it over the ridge. "Grenade!"

            Three seconds later, the ridge shook as an explosion rocked the ground. Screeches of pain and anger rose up with the cloud of debris and smoke.

            "Grenade?" Squall asked. "That was quite a punch for a grenade!"

            The bubbly girl pulled another one from her bag as she and Squall began to climb down from the ridge. Squall could now see the crater Selphie's little explosive had created, and the charred remains of a few of their prey. 

            "Well, I had Irvy add some punch to the standard issue," she explained as she pulled the next one's pin out with her teeth.  Squall covered his face as the second hit and exploded, blowing apart a few more of the Bloodriders.

            For as they drew close, Squall knew that's what these creatures had to be. They had begun to swarm up the hill towards them like angry bees, allowing Squall a few moments to study their features before they came within melee range. Their skin was red, the color of blood, with blank dark orbs where their eyes should have been, and most of them held wavering black blades of flame in their hands. 

            Squall set himself against the ground, bracing for impact as one reached him, the creatures black blade clanging severely against the silvery blade of Lionheart. Squall stepped back again quickly, swinging the gunblade again. The black blade met it mid-swing, but the Bloodrider had obviously underestimated its opponent, and it was with great surprise that it found itself staring down the barrel of the gunblade, right before Squall blew its head off.

            After they began to scatter, Selphie realized her grenades would no longer be so effective, so instead she pulled out her nunchaku and leaped into two incoming Bloodriders.

            "Booyaka!" the young woman cried as she leaped into the air, her foot connecting with one of the creatures' head while she spun the nunchaku into the other. A spray of black blood erupted from the one's face, while the other stumbled, reeling from the crack of the nunchaku. Selphie took advantage of his distraction and wound up for another strike.

            The first thing Zell did was kick that sword far out of the creature's reach before assaulting its face. He couldn't believe the creature was still standing, sneering at him through the wild barrage of punches the martial artist had launched against him. The Bloodrider's leg swept out and hooked Zell's right leg behind the knee, pulling them both down into the dirt. They went rolling down the hill, a flurry of punching and kicking limbs.

            Squall disengaged himself from the now headless creature, stepping back and calming his mind. With a few whispered words he felt electricity dance across the surface of his skin, raising all the tiny hairs as Quezacotl drew near.  Seconds later the majestic green thunderbird appeared in a hail of lightning, silently awaiting Squall's commands.            

            Squall merely pointed, and immediately the thunderbird's wings stretched out as it seemed to rear back, drawing lightning blasts from the sky to its beak before unleashing them upon the scattered Bloodriders below him. 

            Despite the power of the blast, the acrid smell of lightning on the air, the creatures struck seemed unconcerned, maybe even reveling in the power as the electricity raced through their bodies.

            _I am sorry today, my friend, Squall thought, __but it seems I must call upon the other._

            Silent as always, Quezacotl simply faded away.

            _Crack!  Selphie couldn't help but smile as the nunchaku connected with the creature's chest with a sickening crunch of bone. The Bloodrider fell to the ground, gasping as blood began to bubble out of its mouth. _

            She turned her attention to the second one, just in time to duck and avoid the creature's claws as it swiped at her head. He did manage to snag a few strands of her hair, ripping them from her scalp. She winced, but set it aside as she chanted, smiling a deceptively sweet smile as she blew a spell through the creature, blasting its unholy body away. 

            Zell managed to get the upper hand just before they ended their long tumble, pounding away at the thing's face until there was little left but a bloody, gooey mass. Zell stood up, his satisfaction quickly turning to disgust as he took a look at the tarry black substance covering his hand. Frantically he tried to wipe the stuff off on the creature's clothing, which only sort of worked. 

            "Zell!" he heard Squall's voice echo over the ridge. "Selphie! Regroup!"

            Zell raced up the hill, meeting Squall as he came up from the other side. They both saw Selphie making her way, knocking back a few Bloodriders with her whirling nunchaku. 

            "You two cover me," Squall said. Zell didn't miss the look of trepidation in his commander's eyes.

            "You're going to call Eden?" 

            "Yes."

            By the time Selphie reached the other two, Squall had already fallen into the summoning trance. Calling Eden was hard work, and the dark-haired commander didn't do it often. He once said it felt like having his insides turned outside. 

            Zell and Selphie stood protectively beside Squall, glaring as the Bloodrider's drew near. They seemed to have lost their desire for the fight, and stopped some forty feet away. 

            "Why aren't they attacking?" Selphie asked Zell in a harsh whisper. "Why'd they stop?"

            All Zell could do was shrug, watching the creatures with a wary eye. Soon, however, their question was answered.

            The Bloodriders parted, allowing a figure to float through their midst. A tall, regal woman, a Bloodrider by her crimson skin, walked gracefully towards them. She was different, though. She had brilliant blue eyes that were so cold Selphie could barely repress a shiver. Her long ebony hair was carefully braided and coiled around her head, the ends unbraided and allowed to cascade down her back. Her dress was far more elaborate than the plain black garments worn by the others. Selphie felt a knot of unease growing in the pit of her stomach, the woman's mere presence making her feel nauseous. 

            She glanced at Zell, and saw an equally sickened look spread across his tattooed face. She took a deep breath, and stepped in front of Squall. The woman walking towards them smiled, and held up her hand.

            "Just stop right—oof!" Selphie gasped as she was lifted into the air and flung aside by some invisible force. Zell leaped forward, hoping to catch the woman in her distraction, only to find her expecting him. He, too, was flung back, and could only watch helplessly as she walked right up to their chanting commander. The vibrant green mist of Eden's presence had begun to envelop him. Selphie smirked, knowing he couldn't be touched now. 

            Then the woman waved her hand.

            Everything that happened next seemed to be moving in slow motion. In a horrible whisper of power, Selphie watched as an inky black cloud flowed from the woman's hand to Squall, stripping away the green mist of Eden. Squall's stormy gray eyes flew open in shock as he felt his contact with the Guardian slip away. 

            The woman stretched out her fingers, drew her arm back, and then plunged her clawed fist into Squall's abdomen.

            "Squall!" Selphie screamed, not even noticing as the other Bloodriders began to slip away. Tears filled her eyes, but she swallowed them, turning her anguish to anger. With a furious rage, she reached down inside herself to the place where her magic rested, pure anger guiding the way. As the power rushed through her veins, Selphie suddenly couldn't feel her body. She became the magic, unleashing the force upon the object of her ire.

            The woman blinked. She seemed to be standing in a field of flowers….

            "Squall!" Selphie cried again as she and Zell rushed to their fallen commander. He was looking at his stomach, staring with unbelieving eyes at the gaping, bloody wound. He looked up at them, disbelief written on his face. Then his stormy eyes rolled back in their sockets as he passed out. 

            _Pain…_

_            Hyne, what is this pain?_

_            I'm dying…_

_            No, you're not._

_            You're going to become one of us…_

_            And we shall rule…_

_            The humans...they__ will die._

_            No!!!_

_            Selphie gasped as Squall's eyes flew open, wide with fear. A cry that didn't sound human emitted from her commanders dry, cracked lips, chilling her to the bone. _

            "Squall," she pleaded, choking back her tears. "Squall, calm down!"

            "Keep them away!" he screamed, waving his arms. Couldn't Selphie hear them, hear the whispers that thundered in his ears? Couldn't she see them; they were right there, standing beside her, laughing at him, reaching for him.  He began to claw at his face, trying to keep them from touching his eyes…

            Selphie chanted furiously, casting every healing spell and esuna blessing she knew. Magic rushed over Squall's thrashing body, seeming to run off of his fevered flesh like water off a duck's back. 

            She gasped as Zell stepped forward and punched Squall dead in the face. 

            Immediately Squall stilled, knocked out cold.

            "What did you do that for?" she shrieked, glaring at Zell across the bed. 

            "I can't take watching him like that!" Zell yelled back, clenching his fists. "You fucking magic isn't working, what _else was I supposed to do?"_

            Selphie burst into tears.

            "Aw, Selph…" Zell said softly, walking around the bed and reaching out to her. She fell into his embrace, sobbing into his chest. 

            "What are we gonna do?" she cried. "Is he gonna turn?"

            "I don't know…." Zell whispered, hugging her tightly. His mind was racing, trying to determine a course of action. He pulled one arm away from her, reaching into his pocket. "Well, the first thing we're going to do," he said grimly, pressing a button on the small device, "is get the Ragnarok to us."

            It wasn't long before the Ragnarok appeared on the horizon, the auto-pilot function bringing the Estharian airship to them. They unloaded a stretcher and managed to get Squall on board without any further incident. Zell left Selphie to attempt to dress the wound while he went to cockpit. 

            _Gotta fly to Esthar, he thought, heading for the control panel. __Sure there's a hospital there. I'll call Cid on the way._

            As he sat down in the pilot's seat, he noticed a small red light flashing on the dashboard. It indicated there was a voice mail message.

            His brow furrowed, he typed in his access code and told the computer to play the message.

            "_Commander Leonhart," Quistis's lovely, familiar voice sang out sweetly, with just a hint of sarcasm, as if she were laughing at him, __"This is Quistis Trepe, reporting in as requested. My current mission log is 507-A94. You can reach me for further information at 92-77-13. Have a good night."_

            He shrugged, taking control of the Ragnarok and lifting off. He reached over, beginning to dial the private emergency line for Cid's office.

            **_Call her, a voice whispered to him. A feeling of bitter cold swept over him, making him shiver._**

            _Shiva? _

            **_Call Quistis back._**

**            _Why?_**

_            **The muses say the path to Squall's health lies  through her.**_

**_The muses?_**

_            Shiva did not reply. He warmed as the Ice Queen's presence left him. __That was weird, he thought. __She's never said anything without me summoning her before._

_            He looked at the panel. Maybe he should call Quistis back. _

            _The city was overrun with the creatures. Men and women rushed around her. Metal clanged on metal as the two warring forces met in the streets, blood spilling over and rushing down the gutters. _

_            She ran on in the opposite direction of the fleeing citizens, pushing past them towards the heart of the city. She knew that was where she would find him, in the center of the conflict. _

_            She was right. There he was, standing beneath the majestic fountain that stretched its graceful pillars skyward. Normally a breathtaking sight, the fountain seemed suddenly sinister, standing out black against a smoke-filled scarlet sky._

_            She cried out to him, calling for him to follow her. She stopped in her tracks when he shook his head sadly. _

_            "I'm sorry, rose." He spoke quietly, and despite the roar of chaos raging around them, she heard him plainly. "My place is here. They need me. I alone can fight them back. No, please don't cry…"_

_            She turned away, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. She took off, running through the streets, as fast as her feet would carry her. _

_            Behind her, she left her heart._

_            Quistis sat up in bed, gasping for air and drenched in a cold sweat. She looked around wildly, thinking the clanging of metal was still ringing in her ears. _

_            No, wait. That's the phone._

_            She stared at it, hardly believing that it was actually ringing. Finally, she shook her head and picked it up._

            "Hello?" 

            "Quisty?" Zell half-sobbed into the phone. Icy fear wrapped its bony hand around her heart at the sound of his voice. Something was wrong.

            Very wrong.

            "What is it?" she demanded, swallowing hard.

            "I…Squall's hurt. Badly. Our cure spells won't work. Hyne, Quisty! We gotta save him before he turns!"

            The fear twisted her stomach, tears springing to her eyes. _No, I'll not cry. Squall needs me now. Instead, she focused on Zell's voice. His words. __Turns? "What do you mean?"_

            "He was attacked….These things we've been hunting, they turn their victims into Bloodriders, too. Oh, Quisty, what do we do?" He hadn't meant to sit here and plead with Quistis, but the sound of her voice—his _instructor's voice—made him wish fiercely for someone else to make a decision._

            Quistis's mind raced. Selphie was with him, she remembered that from her conversation with Rinoa. She had no doubt Selphie had already tried the full-cure spell. 

            "Did you try—"

            "Yes!" Zell exclaimed. "We've tried everything! Every spell, every potion, stuff that would heal any disease, any ailment but his! We've tried _everything!" _

            "Okay, Zell, calm down, I'm sorry." Her eyes roamed around the darkened room, as if the shadows might hold an answer. Her gaze fell on her travel pack. 

            _Any disease, any ailment…Any imperfection…_

            Maybe the shadows didn't have an answer, but perhaps the roses did.

            "Zell," she said, her voice calm, cold, and controlled. "Bring Squall here. Right now."

            "What?"

            "Just do it. I'm in Starvale. Do you know where that is?"

            "Um…no….but the Ragnarok's auto pilot might….Yeah, here it is."

            "Good. I'll see you soon."         


	13. Darkest Night

Gabriel stood at the window, watching as the sun broke free of the tree line, spilling its golden light out over the fields. At this time of the morning, most of the residents of the tiny farming community had already been up for over an hour, tending their livestock and going to work in the fields. 

He'd been unable to sleep, finding himself tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling for what had felt like an eternity. Every time he attempted slumber, she haunted him. Her cerulean eyes, the silky smooth feel of her skin, the captivating whisper of her voice…

And then there were the dreams. Even there, she troubled him.

            _I know her. I remember her. But from where? Who is she really? And…why can't I stop thinking about her! _

_            His energy and desire to be angry had run out some time ago, and now he simply stood and stared out at the landscape, somehow hoping that Hyne would show him mercy and give him an answer, tell him what to do.        _

            "Gabriel, dear," a voice he had not wanted to hear this morning snaked its way into his room, breaking the blissful silence. "Did you hurt yourself? Oh, poor baby…"

            Gabriel looked down at his bandaged hand, not bothering to turn around. "Yes, Ana." 

            He felt her hands on his hips as she slid up beside him. "Well, you better take care of that. I trust you have found the portal."

            "Yes."

            "Wonderful. What did you tell her?"

            "The legend of the healing portal, just as you instructed." 

            "Good.  We have a busy day ahead of us!"

            "Hmm. I thought you would wait for nightfall."

            "No time," the crimson skinned woman replied. "The bait is on its way.  You have one final task, and then you can be on _your way."_

            Gabriel's heart lurched at her words. "And the task?"

            "Get her to the portal, _with the rod. Make sure she uses it properly, and be certain she and her friends do not interfere. They are well trained professionals, but I do not imagine someone of your caliber will have much difficulty holding them back long enough for us to complete __our task. Are we understood?"_

            Gabriel gave a curt nod. 

            "Oh, and here." She slipped a slender silver vial into his hand. "Just in case you get in the way, or someone gets a little overzealous."

"That's very kind of you, Ana," he said dryly.

She chuckled. "I did promise I'd never make you one of us unless you asked it. I will meet you at the portal."

Gabriel continued to stand at the window for several long moments after Ana left. He looked down at the vial he held in his hand, and thought hard about what he was going to do in the next few hours. 

            Coming to a decision, he dropped the vial into a pocket, grabbed up his sword and cloak, and left his room.

            A short, determined rap on his study door caused Gefrey to look up from his notes. "Come in," he called, expecting Benton.

            "Good morning, sir," his young blonde houseguest said quietly as she stepped into the room. Her face looked strained, and he noticed creases of worry marring her pretty face.

            "Ms. Trepe! How can I help you this morning?"

            "Well, sir….I don't have much time, so I will be blunt. I have come to ask to use the Finder's Way."

            Gefrey blinked. "What? I mean, hmm, what do you need it for?"

            "I…want to investigate some of the city today. I believe the rod may have been made by the residents." _Well, it's not a complete lie. The carefully composed speech she'd planned to use to convince Gefrey to let her use the rod had flown right out the window. "I just need it for an hour or two, I'll bring back. I'll rent it even, if you like."_

            Gefrey stared at her, taken completely by surprise by her request. "Well, I'm sure your reasoning must be sound. I don't see where there'd be a problem…"

            Quistis didn't give him a chance to say anything else. "Thank you, sir! You won't regret it." She whirled out of his office just as quickly as she'd spoken.

            Gefrey was left staring at the empty space in front of his desk, not entirely certain what had just happened. 

            Zell set the Ragnarok down in a field just north of Vanderstyll Manor. Quistis had been standing out on the front lawn, keeping an eye out for the dragon shaped vessel, and reached the field as the ramp was lowered. She stood patiently while Zell and Selphie wheeled a gurney down the walkway. 

            Quistis's breathe caught in her throat as she looked over her fallen commander. He was sleeping, but his face did not tell the tale of a peaceful slumber. His skin was flushed with fever, his solemn face creased in a dark scowl. A blanket covered his mid-section, and she did not have the heart to more closely examine the wound. 

            Selphie hugged her tightly. "Quisty," she whispered, pulling away and looking at her with doe-like eyes. "You can do something about this?"

            Quistis nodded. "Follow me."

            "I am sorry, Mr. Andovar, but Ms. Trepe is not here. She left just a few moments ago to report to her commander."

            Gabriel frowned at the door man. _The bait Ana spoke of…She's probably already on her way to the garden. "Is Lord Gefrey in?"_

            "Yes," the young man replied. "Right this way."

            He led Gabriel down the hallway to Gefrey's study, where the young lord sat going over his daily reports. He looked up as they entered, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.

            "Lord Gefrey, this gentleman asked to see you…"

            "You can go, Mik," Gefrey smiled at him. "I am acquainted with Mr. Andovar."

            The boy slipped out of the room as Gabriel moved forward to shake Gefrey's hand. 

            "What brings you here today, Gabriel?" Gefrey asked gently. 

            "Only a simple question, with a simple answer."

            "Ask away."

            "Ms. Trepe…did she come and see you this morning?"

            "She did," Gefrey responded warily.

            "Did she ask to use the Finder's Way?"

            "What business is it of yours?"

            Gabriel sighed. Gefrey was not a stupid man, nor a gullible one. He knew he'd have to play his card to gain the lord's cooperation. Slowly he pulled a rolled parchment from the inside pouch on his cloak. He unrolled it, and laid it before Gefrey for him to read.

            Gefrey's eyes widened as he read the document, looking back up at Gabriel. 

            "I have a duty to fulfill," Gabriel said quietly. "And it is not one listed in that contract. Please, Lord Gefrey, I have no time to discuss this."

            "I…understand. Yes, she did take it."  
            "Thank you." Grabbing the document off the desk, Gabriel turned and strode out of the room.

            Quistis hesitated for a moment beneath the stone angel. She felt a fluttering of apprehension as she realized she was about to lead them into the rose garden. On the way up the trail, she had explained to Zell and Selphie about the healing portal—although she did not mention who she had found it with—and the rod she held in her hands. She had not given it much thought until now. Despite Squall's condition, she did not want anyone else to see the garden.

            A soft moan reached her ears, and she turned back to see Squall stir. They had pulled up the legs on the gurney; now Zell and Selphie carried him between them. 

            _He needs you, Trepe. Don't fail him now._

            Quistis took a deep breath and, with determination in her eyes, pressed the feather that opened the angel's hidden door. She led them down the corridor and out into the rose garden, hurrying them through as if to keep them from looking at it too long. 

            Ana stood leaning against the wall of the small corridor, lazily studying her fingernails while the men clad in dark robes shifted restlessly around her. One of them turned to regard her, no hint of his intention showing on his emotionless face.

            "Patience, Raok," Ana said softly. "They are coming. Can't you hear them?"

            "Not all of us are gifted like you," the man hissed back. 

            Ana chuckled quietly. "This is true." She stood straight, stepping away from the wall. "Take your positions. They are near."

            They watched as three figures appeared in the softly lit cave, a fourth carried on a gurney between two of them. The blonde woman led the others straight into the shallow pool, across the water and up the smooth steps to the dais where the portal sat, dark and dormant. Ana found herself holding her breath with anticipation as the two laid their precious cargo on the stone before the portal. 

            Quistis turned the slender rod over in her hands, studying it carefully. She could guess easily enough from the shape of the slot in the portal that the sparkling blue sapphire atop the rod was the actual key. She looked up at the words carved into the arch of the portal.

            "Finder's Way out of the Darkness," she whispered softly, thinking of what she'd been able to put together from the symbols. A nervous knot began to tie itself in the pit of her stomach. 

            "What do we do, Quisty?" Selphie asked timidly, staring at the cold stone structure.

            "Just be ready to pass Squall through the portal," Quistis said grimly. _Hyne, please let this work. She stepped up to the stone portal, carefully sliding the sapphire tip of the Finder's Way into the slot._

            She heard movement behind her, and glanced back as Gabriel rushed into the chamber.

            "Quistis, no!" he cried. 

            Too late.

            The rod seemed to come alive in her hands, a loud resounding click echoing through the chamber as it slid itself into place. A moment of silence followed, and then the portal burst into a blinding halo of light so powerful Quistis found herself flung backwards. 

            She rolled down the steps, stopping just short of the pool. She blinked, looking up, and through the white cloud that had been stamped on her vision, she saw Gabriel standing at the other side of the pool. She saw, too, a second corridor entrance they hadn't noticed the first time they'd come here, and out of it stepped a woman dressed in a flowing red gown, split up the side to reveal very smooth, very toned, very red colored legs. Around her a host of men clad in black flowed, running to the sides and taking up positions around the room. 

            "Gabriel!" Ana screamed angrily, glaring at the treacherous mercenary. "What do you think you're doing?" 

            Gabriel drew his sword, looking at the crimson skinned woman with a deadly mask of calm over his face. "I am here to stop you, Ana."

            Ana laughed, a horrible, sick, twisted sound. "But you're too late for that! Look!"

            She pointed towards the portal. The glowing halo of light, while still intense, had faded from being blinding. And in the light, Quistis could see shapes moving. Slowly the shapes began to take shape, terror clutching at Quistis's heart as she discerned what was coming through the gateway.

            The demons from her dreams.

            They were twice the height of any man, and twice as broad. Their taunt red skin was stretched over an impossible configuration of muscles that twitched with anticipation at the scent of living mortals. Massive arms ended in wicked claws dripping with a thin reddish liquid, the same liquid which dripped from the barbed ends of their powerful tails.  Several of them were growling and gnashing their teeth, occasionally licking their lips with a long, slithery tongue. A sickeningly sweet smell washed over the chamber as the things poured out of the portal. 

            While he stared at the awful sight, Gabriel kept one eye on Ana, and saw as she slid a slender golden rod from a hidden place in the folds of her gown. A ruby light flared angrily from the tip of the rod, emanating from the multi-faceted crystal that topped it. 

            _That must be how she plans on controlling them, he concluded. Whispering a prayer for luck, he leapt at her, hoping to take her by surprise. _

            "I know you too well for that, dear Gabriel," Ana snarled, her voice lethally soft, as she brought up the long sword she'd had clutched in the other hand to meet his blow. He smiled at her, stepping back a little. 

            "We'll see," he answered. _For I know your tricks as well.  He launched into a flurry of attacks, whirling and spinning the broadsword expertly in his hands. His ears filled with the sound of ringing metal as Ana met his assault. _

            Quistis forced herself to calm down, reaching up and grabbing her pendant. Although there was little room left in the cramped chamber for the platinum dragon, she knew they needed Bahamut's aid. 

            A wicked gleam shone in the dragon's eyes as he took in the sight of the battle. With a draconic grin, he began to lay in to the creatures, drawing in his breath to release an awful flare of energy.

            The Guardian was not alone as the Ice Queen appeared on the other side of the chamber, waving a shock of cold air through the ranks of the black clad fighters. Several of them were literally frozen in their tracks, but many more continued to move in to the fray. 

            Quistis scrambled to her feet as a demon escaping from the path of destruction Bahamut was spewing made its way towards her. She swung around Save the Queen, cracking the whip a few times to get the feel of it before launching an assault against the creature. Soon, however, she realized her efforts would be futile as the end of the whip clacked uselessly against the demon's hardy hide.

            Selphie found herself having much better success with her whirling nunchaku as the nimble young woman fairly danced around another demon. She whispered a few words of magic and could not keep from giggling just a little as the magic rushed through her veins, giving her a boost of energy and making the movements of everything around her slow in a comedic sort of fashion. Several good hits in quick succession in varied places all over the demon's body set if off balance, distracting it long enough for Selphie to put her plan into action. Pulling the pin from one of her grenades, she practically ran up the creature before stuffing the volatile egg-shaped explosive device down the thing's throat. 

            Obviously unaware of its peril, the creature just grinned a ghastly smile at her and swallowed. Imagine its amazement a few seconds later as the grenade exploded, showering Selphie with reeking red goo.

            "Gross!" Zell exclaimed from behind Selphie as he wiped some of the demon's internal fluids from his eyes. His moment of distraction gave the black clad man he faced the opportunity to land a solid punch to Zell's nose.

            "Ouch! Man, you're gonna pay for that one!" Zell threw a few lazy punches before bouncing back and snapping up his leg towards the man's head. As predicted, the man grabbed Zell's foot, effectively stopping the blow. Zell leapt into the air, using the man's grip as a platform as he swung the other leg around, connecting with the man's temple. Agile as a cat, Zell spun in the air to land on his stomach in a position ready for push-ups. 

            Ana was good, parrying every blow Gabriel could throw against her as they danced the ringing dance of swords. She was distracted, however, and reluctant to use the golden rod in her hands to block him, allowing his foot to find an opening. He kicked her hard in her abdomen, knocking the air from her lungs. Her grip loosened, a simple flick of his wrist twisted his sword into the handguard on hers, flipping it out of her hand and sending it scittering across the stone floor. 

            "Gabriel," she smiled at him, her eyes betraying her fear. "You wouldn't attack an unarmed woman, would you? It wouldn't be very _honorable, would it?"_

            Gabriel set his mouth in a thin line. He paused a moment, studying this woman who had once been so much to him. 

            _But that had been before her skin became blood._

_            In a single, liquid movement, Gabriel plunged his sword into her breast._

            The demon grabbed the end of Save the Queen, yanking the whip towards it and dragging Quistis with it. It reached out a huge clawed hand, smacking the side of her head painfully.

            Her vision turned red as blood streamed freely down the side of her face. A moment of dizziness swept over her, but it brought with it a cold sensation as the door to the blue light within was opened. Drawing on that inner strength, Quistis whispered an incantation. The pain in her head was relieved immediately as she felt herself lifting up off the stone floor. She turned, an intense look of determination stamped on her face. 

            "Lisara neye," she whispered, her eyes glowing red. The demon laughed, stupidly taking a step towards her, just as twin beams of ruby light shot across the small space, burning the creature's eyes.

            It cried out in pain and anger, reaching up to its face. It took a few steps towards her, forgetting in its rage that she was no longer standing on the floor. With all the grace of a rock the creature fell into the shallow pool. 

            Quistis smiled, but then stared in awe and horror at the writhing creature in the pool. It hissed and popped, the flesh literally melting away, and then the water became clear again.

            Quistis looked up to see Selphie also staring at the spectacle. The perky brunette raised her gaze to meet Quistis's, and grinned. She kneeled down and scooped up a handful of the water, twisting and flinging it towards another demon. They were rewarded with another show of screaming, melting flesh. 

            "Booyaka!" Selphie cheered, as she began scooping more water and flinging it all over the battlefield.

            Gabriel kneeled down beside Ana, gently sliding her body off his sword. She stared up at him, anger and disbelief scrawled across her face.   
            "I am sorry, Ana," he said quietly as he ripped the golden rod from her clutching hand. "But honor is reserved for men, not monsters."

            He stood, turning to walk away.

            "You'll never win," she choked. He turned, glaring at her. 

            "Oh?"

            "Yes. You're right…about that rod. It will close the gate. But only from the other side."

            He stared at her, the implications sinking in slowly. She chuckled, a rasping sound made macabre as blood bubbled up out of her mouth.

            "So either way, Gabriel, I win." 

            "No, Ana," he said solemnly. "Because thankfully for the world, there are those who care about more than themselves."

            "Oh? Like you? Why…." A fit of coughs racked Ana's body as her lifeblood crept slowly out onto the stone floor. "Why don't….you tell your precious Quistis….why you're here? What you were…paid to do?"

            Quistis looked over from the other side of the pool, catching the sound of her name. She stared at Gabriel, confusion on her face. 

            He sighed deeply before wading into the pool. A soft golden light emitted from the rod, and the demons began to retreat towards the portal. Selphie and Zell rushed protectively to Squall's side, standing around him while the creatures flowed past. Quistis barely noticed, however, looking into Gabriel's face as he walked up the steps towards her. He reached out and grabbed her hand, leading her to where the portal stood. The brilliant light still streaming from the opening rushed around them almost as if it were alive, the sound of the wind thundering in their ears. 

            Despite the cacophony of sound, however, Quistis could hear Gabriel's voice clearly as he began to speak.

            "I am sorry, Quistis. I was not honest with you. I was hired to seduce you and convince you to use the Finder's Way to open this portal, which is not a healing portal, but a gate to the creature's plane."

            Her mouth opened in an outraged gasp. He put his finger to her lips.

            "I am a mercenary, Quistis. Just like you. I was hired to do a job. That was all. But it became something more. I failed, you see. I failed because I fell in love with you."

            Tears began to sting her sapphire eyes, her heart breaking at the sight of the unfathomable sorrow she saw gathering in his pools of amethyst. He leaned close to her, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke softly to her. 

            "I know who you are. I didn't understand at first, and now it is too late."

            "Too late?" 

            He held up the golden rod. "This will close the gate. But it must be done from the other side."

            She stared at him, horror evident in her face as she understood what he meant. A tear slid its quiet way down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it away before leaning closer and kissing her gently. 

            She swallowed a sob as his lips left hers. He placed two small objects in her hand. 

            "These are for you," he whispered. "Save your commander. Remember me. I will see you again."

            He stepped away and began walking towards the portal.           

            "Wait!" Quistis cried.

            Gabriel stopped and looked back at her. His face was calm, serene, his eyes brimming with emotion. 

            "You said you know who I am. Who am I, then?"

            He smiled, the last she would ever see of him. "You are my soul."

            He stepped through, and the portal closed.


	14. Dawn

In the eerie silence that had followed Gabriel's disappearance, no one moved. No one dared to breathe as a trembling Quistis Trepe stood before the cold stone archway that had swallowed her heart.

            Finally, after what felt like an eternity had passed, she opened her hand slowly, looking at the two objects he had pressed into her hand. One was a ring, a beautifully sculpted piece of some gleaming silvery metal that depicted a miniature dragon clutching the stem of a rose. The second was a silver vial held closed with a tiny ruby. 

            A soft moan interrupted Quistis's thoughts, and she turned back towards where Zell and Selphie sat crouched next to Squall's prone form. The fevered commander was stirring, beginning to talk in his sleep. She strode towards them calmly, kneeling down beside Squall. Selphie scooted back, giving Quistis room.

            With hands that neither shook nor trembled, Quistis removed the tiny ruby that kept the silvery liquid inside the vial. She reached out and took hold of Squall's head, prying his mouth open just a little and pouring the liquid down his throat. 

            Instantly Squall relaxed, and Selphie and Zell watched in relieved wonder as the crimson tint faded from his skin. 

            Her commander safe, Quistis sat back, her head in her hands.

            And cried.

            Quistis stood in the center of Gabriel's room at the inn. Her eyes were closed as she simply drew breath, the scent of him still heavy in the air. She had taken the liberty of packing up what few items had been left in the room, clothing, mostly, and had paid the balance on his bill to the innkeeper. Lord Gefrey would be holding a memorial service for the young mercenary tomorrow morning at dawn. 

            She took one last walk around the room to be sure she hadn't missed anything. She noticed the mirror was smashed in the bathroom—she would have to be certain to pay the innkeeper for the replacement of the mirror. Now she understood the gauze she'd found on the bed.

            She came back around to the door, but found herself reluctant to leave the room.

            _Once I step out of this room, he's really gone._

_            Anger filled her as she stared at the empty bed, tears stinging her eyes. "Why, Hyne?" she asked aloud of the empty room. "Why did I find him only to loose him? It isn't fair! Everyone had someone but me! I was alone, I was always alone! I find someone, and then you __take him away from me!" Tears were streaming down her face by the time she realized she was shouting. She stopped, and took a deep breath. _

            And remembered his eyes. 

            His eyes…those lovely pools of violet fire. They'd held such passion. Yes, he'd told her, those feelings she'd seen in them had been real. He had loved her.

            And in the end, his eyes had held peace.

            "Just be safe," she whispered. "I will see you again."

            As she turned to walk away, she caught the scent of roses drifting in on the evening breeze….

END


End file.
